


To the End of the Universe...and Back

by lifeaftermeteor



Series: Across Time and Space [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Stag Nights & Bachelor Parties, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 11:31:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 39,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19425103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifeaftermeteor/pseuds/lifeaftermeteor
Summary: Shiro and Keith have been an item for years now, but since Allura and Lance’s wedding, the universe has connived innumerable ways to keep them apart more often than not, Shiro as a rising leader within the Inter-Galactic Alliance and Keith with rebuilding the Galra nation from the ground-up. A port call by the IGF ATLAS to a star system not far from Galran space leads to an unplanned bit of R&R for its captain. Shiro’s unscheduled visit to Daibazaal moves him and Keith both down a path together toward its inevitable end: a wedding!  Sequel to “Stolen Time.”





	1. A Chance Opportunity

**Author's Note:**

> With the explosion of wedding and fix-it fics, I determined there is a true dearth of bachelor party fics which was legit all that this was supposed to be. But then it kept growing and so I offer this up for your enjoyment! I'm also rating this "Mature" for a few cut-to-black scenes and reference to alcohol-induced shenanigans in the future chapters.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the first time in years, the ATLAS is in hailing distance of Daibazaal. While the rest of the crew spends a week on “shore” leave and taking on supplies at a nearby system, the Captain takes some long-overdue personal time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **[Nísa](https://twitter.com/shiroganejpg/) was kind enough to do a piece for this chapter, which you can see [over here on Twitter](https://twitter.com/shiroganejpg/status/1151231626766094336).**

Coran tapped his finger on his lips as he considered his options. 

The IGF ATLAS was the closest it had ever been to Daibazaal space since that fateful Kral Zera years ago. Real-time hailing distance, in fact. The power was at his fingertips where he sat in the CIC [1] should he have the courage to be proactive. And what were the risks, truly? Should his person of interest in fact be unavailable to receive any guests, then there was no harm in simply checking in… 

Though said person would likely tell the _other_ person of interest that they had hailed, and without express orders to do so, the proverbial cat would be out of the bag as his human colleagues liked to put it. 

The ship was docked in a nearby system, reclaimed by its indigenous population as the Galra withdrew to their original territories held prior to Zarkon’s empire-building. As the ship resupplied and underwent minor repairs, the crew had been granted a week of downtime outside of their normal shift schedule. 

Their captain had not made use of the same arrangement. 

Coran grimaced and ran his fingers over his mustache. Their captain was the beating heart of the ship, tied to the ATLAS in ways he couldn’t hope to fathom—Coran suspected even Allura was not entirely sure how Shiro’s alchemic power worked—but he was still human. And humans, Coran had discovered, needed rest. 

And love. 

That decided it. With a dazzling smile, he turned to his crewmates. “I’m going to open a line to Daibazaal,” he informed them. “Should anyone wish to stop me, I suggest you make yourself scarce.” 

To his side, Veronica snorted. Iverson sputtered incoherently in his surprise, something about orders. Curtis simply acknowledged, “Opening comms line to Daibazaal. All yours Coran.” 

On the screen before him, a young Galran communications officer answered their hail with a wide, friendly smile. Coran was struck with memories from times long before, of banquet halls and laughter. How quickly things could return to what they had been. 

“ATLAS, we read,” the Galran officer said. “It has been a long while.” 

“Indeed it has,” Coran acknowledged with a smile of his own. “I trust all is well on Daibazaal?” 

“Busy, but yes. The Council was meeting last movement, but then I assume you already knew that. Two of the members are heading to your home system in the coming quintants.” 

“I was aware, but I am glad to hear it. To be candid, I’m calling on more...personal matters,” Coran intoned, his smile taking on a conniving edge, “and was wondering if you could patch me through to one of our Council members.” 

The Galra tilted his head off to the side, considering. But then his smile mirrored Coran’s own and he said, “I assume you mean Delegate Keith. Yes, I believe I can do that. Standby.” 

The video blinked out while the line held. Coran held his breath while he waited. An opportunity like this wouldn’t come again, he knew. 

When the video re-engaged, Keith appeared on-screen surrounded by what appeared to be his private quarters. His hands came up continue their apparently interrupted work braiding his hair while his face betrayed his curiosity. Coran assumed it was due to being hailed from the ATLAS through Daibazaal’s communications hub if Coran had to guess—their captain had a direct line—and the fact that Shiro himself was not on-screen. 

“ATLAS it’s good to hear from you,” Keith greeted. “Hope it’s not about trying to enlist me for a mutiny.” 

The CIC members laughed around him. Coran replied, “If it’s a mutiny it’s a well-intentioned one, I assure you.” Then, more seriously, “How are you Keith?” 

Keith’s eyes softened. “Never a dull moment, but...good. Thank you.” Then he brought them back to the matter at hand. “What’s this ‘well-intentioned’ mutiny about?” 

“We— _I_ was wondering that if you were not perhaps too ‘busy’ that you would be amenable to considering receiving a guest.” 

Something flashed in those violet eyes, an excitement that pulled at Coran’s heart. But when Keith spoke, his voice was clear. “He doesn’t know you called, does he?” 

“Well, no,” Coran admitted. “But we’ll be docked for the remainder of this movement, and with the ship readiness drawn down and Daibazaal so close...this would be the time. Should there _be_ time, of course.” 

Keith’s gaze turned inward for a moment before he refocused on Coran. With a shy smile he answered, “I would be very amenable to receiving a guest. Assuming you can break him away from his post.” 

Coran smiled. “Leave that to me, Number Four.” 

*****

“I can't just _leave_ , Coran,” Shiro said, setting aside the reports he had been reading to scrub his face with his hands. The Altean had called on him in the otherwise empty officer's lounge and made a not-so-subtle suggestion that maybe he should take some time away, given their proximity to a certain planet...and by extension, a certain _someone._

“Of course you can,” Coran answered, waving his hand dismissively. “We're docked in a friendly system. You gave the crew planetary leave. You could easily take some time for yourself—” 

“Coran, I'm the _captain_. My place is here, with the ship, with the crew.” Leaning back against the couch cushions, Shiro met Coran's eyes to better argue his point. “What if something were to happen? What if the MFEs and the Lions aren't enough? No one else in the command chain can get the ATLAS to transform—” 

“If we needed the ATLAS in all her glory we have bigger problems. But regardless, you can expect that we would be hailing you _and_ the Galran fleet if it came to it,” Coran informed him, closing the distance between them and taking a seat in a nearby chair. He leaned forward to brace his elbows against his knees and when he spoke again, his words were kind but straightforward. “When did you last take time for yourself?” 

“I think you know the answer to that,” Shiro answered, quiet and jaded. He gave Coran a half-hearted smile that faded as soon as it appeared. The IGF ATLAS needed a captain and although Shiro didn't think he was personally quite ready to relinquish the controls, the psychological connection with the ship was an exhausting burden for which they had yet to find a successor. No one _could_ and so Shiro _had to_. 

“That’s why I asked,” Coran said, gently. “More to the point...when was the last time you _really_ talked with him?” 

“I talk to Keith regularly—” 

“But in the flesh, my boy! When was the last time you were _with_ him? On the same planet. Phoebs? _Deca-phoebs?_ ” 

Shiro clenched his teeth and looked away. Though not quite 'deca-phoebs,’ they were pushing a year. Their deployments and Galran Parliamentary schedules hadn't allowed them time to reconnect. And he missed him. Oh, how he _missed_ Keith. He ached with it, the longing manifesting as physical pain that nearly drove him to tears when the calls weren't enough. 

But now he had been given an opportunity. An inconceivably rare one, at that. Turning to face Coran once more, he felt his resistance crumble. 

*****

Keith bit down on the inside of his cheek in an effort to keep from fidgeting. He watched Shiro dock the ATLAS shuttle in the small diplomatic hangar, escorts having peeled off and returned airborne at flight control's direction. As hydraulics hissed and landing mechanisms locked into place, Keith felt his nerves start to get the upper hand. 

He hadn't seen Shiro in nearly a year. Sure, they spoke to one another on an almost daily basis, used video whenever the feed delay wasn't more than a couple seconds, but...but it wasn't nearly enough. He _missed_ him. Desperately so. And sometimes that loneliness cut bone deep. Keith wanted nothing more than to feel Shiro against him, those arms enveloping his smaller frame, held so close that he could feel Shiro's laughter, his heartbeat, every breath he took move through Keith as if it was his own. 

For now, however, he screwed his face into some semblance of calm as he watched Shiro walk down the ramp to the hangar deck. A bag hung from his shoulder and he had eschewed his uniform for plain clothes. It made him look somehow more devastatingly human: an explorer, a wanderer, not the commanding officer of the IGF ATLAS. Shiro scanned the otherwise empty deck before his eyes locked on Keith. 

For a moment, neither moved. Frozen in place, Keith felt as if the air had been punched from his lungs. 

Shiro recovered first. He took several long, steady strides towards him to close the distance that separated them. Keith watched his fingers twitch at his side as if they itched to reach out and touch. Keith wanted him to, his own skin longing for the caress that didn't come, leaving him tingling with desires unfulfilled. 

Because despite the otherwise vacant hangar, they both knew they weren't really alone. Keith watched Shiro's eyes move to the mirrored control window before returning to meet his gaze. Taking a deep breath, Keith said, “Welcome to Daibazaal.” 

Shiro smiled. “Thanks for having me. I hope it's not an inconvenience…” 

Keith shook his head, seeking to dispel any remaining doubts from his partner. “ _You_ are _never_ an ‘inconvenience,’” he assured. “The only inconvenience is the audience watching to see what the humans are going to do, and I'm not keen on giving them a show.” Shiro snorted and Keith smiled, taking a half step backward. “Shall we?” 

Shiro gestured vaguely ahead of them with a wave of his hand. “Lead the way.” 

They walked through the empty hangar and down the adjacent corridor to the elevator bank that would take them to the residential floors in the old Imperial complex. Keith filled the air with talk of the work they had been doing throughout the territory. Shiro told him about their recent missions aboard the IGF ATLAS and shared news from the other Paladins. The few Galra they passed cast curious glances their way but said nothing, a reprieve for which Keith was grateful. 

Reaching the elevator bank, they stepped into an empty car and Keith hit the button for his floor. They lapsed into silence then, standing side-by-side. Keith’s hand drifted toward Shiro until his pinky hooked around its partner on Shiro’s hand. He felt Shiro’s fingers flex in response and curl around the digit, locking him in place. But then Shiro’s grip eased only to interlace his fingers more thoroughly with Keith’s own. After so long without, the touch was electric and promised far more intimacy to come. 

When the doors to the elevator opened, Keith stepped out—fingers still entwined with Shiro’s—and led them down the blessedly empty hall to his quarters. The door slid open with a hiss and they stepped inside, locking the mechanism behind them. 

And then they collided. Shiro unceremoniously dropped his bag to the floor and his hands came around Keith's waist, taking several steps forward to back Keith up against the wall. Keith retreated willingly, his hands coming up to comb through Shiro's short hair as his back hit the wall. He craned his neck upward and Shiro bent down, the two of them meeting in searing, desperate kiss. 

Their lips parted, gasping for air as if they were drowning, and he felt Shiro's tongue slide into his mouth between his lips. Keith groaned into the kiss and fisted Shiro's hair. Against his lips he felt the rumble of an appreciative groan in response seconds before Shiro moved closer and trapped Keith between the length of his body and the wall, his legs slotting between Keith's and holding him immobile. Keith's fingers left Shiro's hair to claw at his shoulders and when they parted at last, some wanton cry escaped him while Shiro's mouth found purchase at his neck. “Bed,” he gasped. Shiro chuckled darkly but took a half-step back, acquiescing. With the additional space, Keith pushed away from the wall, grabbed Shiro's hand and hauled him further into the apartment towards his bedroom. 

*****

Shiro woke slowly, the tide of sleep ebbing. He groaned, his legs stretching out beneath soft sheets which whispered with the movement. His left arm tightened ever so slightly around the weight that had him pinned to the bed, his hand curling up against the gentle slope of a bare shoulder as his fingers slid against warm skin. Shiro ducked his head to hide his eyes in soft locks of long hair and, pressing closer to the body tucked against his own, sighed softly. 

The sound was greeted with a low chuckle. “Mornin’” Keith drawled, the sound vibrating through his ribs and into Shiro’s chest where they were pressed together. 

Shiro only sighed again, nuzzling the nape of Keith’s neck and eventually blinking his eyes open. Daibazaal’s reborn sun was distant and it painted the walls of Keith’s room in faint gold. “What time is it?” he asked at last. 

“Local or Sol?” Keith asked back. 

Shiro smirked. “Local.” 

Keith hummed, thoughtful, and Shiro watched him set aside a datapad before rolling over fully to face him. He brought a hand up to brush back the white strands of Shiro’s hair that had fallen over his eyes. “Cresting toward midday. But it’s still morning.” 

“Why’d you let me sleep so late?” 

Keith’s smile was soft and sweet. “You looked like you needed it.” 

Shiro returned the gentle smile and flexed his left arm, pulling Keith closer as he rolled onto his back. Keith followed easily as their weight shifted. He braced his forearms on either side of Shiro’s head as he settled on top of him, his dark hair falling over his shoulders. Shiro held him close and again buried his face in the crook of Keith’s neck, again breathed him in. 

Keith chuckled. “Lazy,” he teased. 

Shiro eased his grip, allowing Keith to pull away somewhat, just enough for the faint light drifting in from the window to hit his face. _Beautiful._ “What’s on the agenda today?” 

“Mom’s here and—” 

“Krolia’s here?” Shiro cut in, excited. It had been ages since he’d seen Krolia, and most of the time it had been on the sidelines of Alliance business. Hardly an opportunity for catching up. 

Keith rolled his eyes, but grinned nonetheless. “Yes, she’s here. She wants to see you too. She was excited to hear you were visiting.” 

“When?”

“Whenever.” 

“Now?” 

Keith laughed and leaned to the side, propping his head up in his palm. “Technically. She’s already awake. We can go over whenever…” 

The way he said it made no attempt to hide the fact Keith had other plans. Shiro ghosted his fingertips along Keith’s back, sliding along the swell of his sinewy muscles and the dip of his spine. Keith responded by straddling Shiro’s thigh and rolling his hips languidly down into him, his leg pressing up against Shiro’s groin and making his eyes flutter shut. “Maybe after…?” Shiro asked as he opened his eyes once more, heavy-lidded and hungry, leaving the invitation unspoken. 

Keith’s smile turned predatory and he ducked his head to nip and kiss at his neck, making Shiro gasp as his heart skipped in his chest. “Yes, after,” Keith agreed, and then pulled back once more. “And after a shower.” 

Shiro quirked an eyebrow and grinned. “Ah, right,” he said. He unwound his arm from Keith’s ribs and reached up to tap his nose with his forefinger. “Galra olfactory senses. Giving away all our secrets.” 

Keith snorted and moved again, slipping easily between Shiro’s legs. “To say the least. But for now…” His lips returned to Shiro’s neck as a hand reached down to grip his thigh. Shiro groaned, content. 

*****

No sooner had the door to Krolia’s quarters on Daibazaal slid open that Shiro found himself enveloped in a bone-crushing hug by the Galra. He returned the embrace with a laugh, resting his cheek against her broader shoulder while her long-fingered hands stroked his short hair. He sighed after a time, finding he was wholly unable to suppress the sound. He heard as much as felt Krolia laugh in response before she at last withdrew, her arms dropping to take his hands in hers, and hauled him into the living space. Keith followed at their heels wearing a lopsided grin. 

Krolia was never one for filling empty air, preferring direct communication to generic platitudes. So when she pulled Shiro to the couch, only releasing his hands when he sat down, she urged, "Tell me about your adventures." 

Shiro laughed and didn’t bother fighting the pleased smile as he regaled her. Technical mishaps with warped time, hostile encounters, friendly encounters and always onward, onward, onward. The schedule had been grueling and they had had to put the crew on a more sane rotation...well, some of them at least. His core CIC team refused to stand down for anything besides comfort breaks and sleep. Allura and Lance had stayed by him too, even after Pidge was called back to lead the Garrison's Research and Development Division and Hunk was redirected to diplomatic affairs. Even with the Lions and the paladins scattered, he knew they were a teludav trip from his side. It was a comforting thought, given the Garrison had yet to identify a successor for the ATLAS command...and Shiro was beginning to think any such decision would also require the Alliance's unanimous support anyway. Krolia gave him a knowing smile at this, lending further credibility to his assessment. 

Then there was the subtle sound of vibration off to his left and as Shiro turned, he watched Keith withdraw a mobile device. He grimaced down at the violet Galra scrawl that scrolled across the translucent screen in his palm. “Duty calls?” Shiro harbored a guess, keeping his tone light. 

Keith looked up, regretful. “I...yes,” he answered. “I’m sorry. It won’t take long…” 

“It’s fine,” Shiro assured him. “I know a thing or two about that. I’ll keep myself occupied—” 

“Here with me,” Krolia said, cutting into the conversation. 

When Shiro turned and found her wearing a knowing smile. He grinned and returned his attention to Keith, confirming, “With Krolia.” This seemed to only make Keith suspicious, his eyes narrowing dangerously at them both as he tried to discern their intentions. Shiro’s smile softened and he reached out to take Keith’s hand in his own. He gave it a gentle squeeze. “Go on,” he encouraged. “We’ll be here when you finish whatever it is they need you to do.” 

After a beat, Keith acquiesced with a sigh before bringing Shiro’s hand to his lips and kissing his knuckles. The open affection with Krolia present startled Shiro into sudden, wide-eyed silence. With the other paladins, it was one thing; the Galra mother was another. But Keith only smiled and slipped from his grip, heading toward the door with a promise to return soon. Shiro could only nod, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks as he blinked owlishly at Keith’s retreating form. He then worried the inside of his cheek, eyes trained on the empty space Keith had until recently occupied. 

From behind him, a smug, “It seems it’s true that absence _does_ make the heart grow fonder.” 

Shiro smiled. 

*****

“There's someone else who wants to see you,” Keith said, as they walked down the hallway away from Krolia’s apartment, toward the elevator bank. 

“Oh?” Shiro intoned and his traitorous mind started running through the names of Galra leadership who would want to speak to him on some Alliance matter or another. He was so sure of this, he almost missed Keith's coy smile. “Who?” 

They stepped into an elevator car and Keith hit a button for one of the lower floors. “You'll see.” 

The answer only intrigued Shiro further, but he kept his questions to himself as they rode the elevator down. He followed his partner silently as they walked through a corridor that was similar to the one they had traversed from the diplomatic hangar. But then they turned a corner and the hallway opened into a vast natural cavern of red rocks and striped stalactites which ended in a sudden cliff and looked out over the valley below. 

And there she was, resting in all her glory. 

The Black Lion. 

“She’s been itching to reconnect with you, scratching at the edges,” Keith explained, bringing a hand up to pantomime a one-fingered scratch at his temple. 

“She has you,” Shiro reminded him, feeling his heart hammer in his chest.

But Keith was shaking his head. “She has me, yes. But I’m not you. And she’s missed you.” 

Could that be? Shiro let his eyes drift up to meet the Lion’s steady gaze. He hadn’t stepped inside Black’s cockpit alone since...he couldn’t remember when. The memory of her rejection of him—the clone—surfaced in his mind's eye and weighed heavy. 

And even so, he could feel her. Scratching, as Keith said. Not angry, not defensive. Curious almost, hopeful perhaps. Shiro swallowed and took a deep breath before he took a step forward. 

No sooner had that single step landed than Black moved. She knelt close to the ground and opened her jaws in invitation. Relief and nostalgia swept through Shiro’s body and the tightness in his chest eased. 

There was a touch at his shoulder, bringing Shiro’s attention back to his partner. Keith was smiling in earnest now. “Go get reacquainted. The Lion has priority clearance. No one will bother you two.” Shiro nodded before turning back to the Lion and striding forward. 

The cockpit was quiet and so painfully, blessedly familiar. Shiro ran his hand over the panels overhead before sitting down in the pilot’s seat. “Hi Black. Been awhile,” he murmured, uncertain. He let his head fall back against the chair behind him and closed his eyes. He could hear her, feel her. Around him, in him. So like ATLAS and so very different. Whereas ATLAS was the leviathan, the behemoth, the legion...Black was space and time in singularity. 

And she loved him still. The sentiment reverberated through him, raising goosebumps on his skin and making him shudder. She loved him, had missed him, and wanted to _fly._

Straightening, Shiro wrapped his fingers over the controls and the cockpit came alive in violet light. “Let's go stretch your legs, shall we?” 

*****

On the nightmare scale, this one was not the worst Shiro had ever had. 

It admittedly was not the best, either. 

He sat upright in Keith’s bed, legs bent in toward his chest as he focused on regaining his mental footing. His breath still came in ragged gasps that shuddered on his lips—even as he counted to five on each inhale, and then again on each exhale—while the last remnants of the dream clawed at the edges of his conscious mind. 

Beside him, Keith was speaking in clipped tones. He would reach out to touch him, a delicate caress, only to pull his hand away again and fidget as if he wasn’t sure if his touch would make it worse. If he had had the focus to spare, Shiro would have hauled Keith into his lap and clung to him; as it stood, however, he could only close his eyes and breathe as his heart rate at last returned to normal. 

“—I wondered if something would set it off. While you were here—” 

“Keith…” 

“—I really didn’t think anything today would have triggered an episode—” 

“Keith—” 

“—but I wanted to see you. So much. I wasn’t watching for the signs. So I...I _must’ve_ missed something—” 

Turning to his partner, Shiro found Keith’s eyes searching the room around them as if for the culprit. “Keith, look at me.” Those violet eyes turned to face him and Shiro watched inumerable thoughts and emotions flit across Keith’s pale face in the dim light. “Do I look okay?” he asked. 

Keith studied him and as he did, Shiro let his lips slide into an easy, honest smile. It seemed to coalesce Keith’s runaway thoughts and he at last admitted, “Yes, you do.” 

“Then I’m okay.” Shiro reached down and took Keith’s hand in his own, kissing the back of his palm and closing his eyes again. It had been an agonizing slog through painful memories and heartache to get here, to where he could soothe his own demons without Keith beside him or words of comfort whispered in his ear. The year apart may have forced his hand in this respect but he was here all the same, having struggled through the torments one too many times alone in his quarters aboard the ATLAS. He’d be damned if he’d allow the nightmares chase him back into the dark. 

Running his thumb over the back of Keith’s fingers before entwining them together, he raised his eyes to meet Keith’s once more. “Trust me,” he urged, “please.” Keith expelled a heavy sigh and nodded, the tension beginning to bleed from his smaller form. 

Light flashed from outside, drawing Shiro’s attention away from the man beside him and the lingering nightmare alike. It was then that the sound of water hitting the window registered on his ear, underpinned by a low rumble. “Rain?” he asked, looking behind him out the window to confirm. Startled, he turned back to Keith who was watching him with a smug smile. “Since when is there rain on Daibazaal?” 

“Since the Olkari helped us figure it out,” Keith answered. 

Shiro lay back down and rolled over onto his stomach and propped himself up on his left arm to watch the storm outside, the rain lit by city below. “I imagine _you_ had something to do with that request,” he intoned as Keith lay on his stomach beside him. 

“We had to stop using quintessence and find something sustainable, but _everything_ ran on it. I...called in a few favors, made a few requests...which I know we’ll have to repay later. But for now...for now we can support everyone, feed everyone. We don’t have to expand, looking for resources outside of our territory.” 

“And it rains on Daibazaal.” 

Shiro glanced sidelong at Keith and found him sporting a quiet smile. “A kindness. Something about natural filtration from beneath the planetary cap and bringing back the planet’s natural cycles...I don’t understand it all. But yes. Rain.” 

They slipped into comfortable silence, listening to the water hit the window. Shiro let his eyes slip shut as he was lulled by the familiar sound despite the unfamiliar planet. As he drifted off, the man beside him spoke again, voice soft and uncertain. 

“I used to be afraid of it,” Keith confessed. “Of the rain, the storms. When I was little, Dad and I were downtown in Plaht City and the sky just...opened up. It was so loud and so dark and there was so much water. It flooded the streets. I remember watching a car float by in the torrent. 

“I think that’s what really stuck with me. Cars were big and heavy. They weren’t supposed to float. But we watched the water take it all the same. 

“We were safe where we were, of course. And when the water receded, Dad took us home. Nothing happened to us. But for a _week_ I had nightmares of getting swept away, of the _house_ getting swept away. One night it was so bad I climbed into Dad’s bed and made him promise not to let the water get me.” 

“What did he do to make you feel better?” Shiro asked. 

Keith smirked in that self-deprecating way of his. “He dug up a topographical map. Laid it out over the kitchen table, the edges spilling over. He marked in big black ‘x’s where our house was and where we had been in Plaht City, and then he showed me all the little lines between us and the floodplain. Ten feet and ten feet and ten feet and ten feet...the flood would have to be of biblical proportions to get to us. And we were never the biblical types.” 

Shiro smiled, thinking back to the young man he had met years ago. It felt like another lifetime. “Ever the pragmatist,” he observed. 

Keith’s smirk faded and his gaze turned inward. “I...have a hard time believing things unless I can see them.” He worried his lower lip between his teeth but then looked up at Shiro. Even in the dark, it was impossible to miss the vulnerability in those violet eyes. “Thank you for showing me. That you’re okay, that you’re healing. That you trust me, believe in me. That you love me, even if you don’t need me.” 

Shiro’s smile softened and felt his heart ache at the confession. Reaching out, he entwined the fingers of his left hand with Keith’s and whispered, “Come here.” Keith came willingly, his arms wrapping around Shiro’s waist as his head tucked into the hollow of his throat. Shiro kissed the crown of Keith’s head before resting his cheek there, his arm coming to rest against Keith’s back to hold him close. “I love you,” he murmured just above the sound of rain outside. 

*****

The next morning, Keith had led them from his quarters out into the city to explore. He was excited to show off his home and the work that had kept him and the rest of the Galra delegates busy, rebuilding their society from the ground up. A few times, Shiro had caught sight of Keith’s hands twitching at his sides, as if he was resisting the urge to reach out and take Shiro’s hand in his and tug him off to see the next thing. 

The city was truly something surreal. After coming to associate the Galra Empire with dim corridors and so much violet light, the...warmth had Shiro reeling. He had noticed the change on his approach into the capital city, but had given it little thought until he was surrounded by it. Shiro’s attention never lingered long in one place, roaming from gurgling fountains to pristine promenades and ever onward to the grasslands and mountains in the distance. The rain from the night before had passed, leaving the air feeling clean, tasting oddly bright on his tongue when he inhaled. 

After a time, he and Keith settled onto a bench next to a large fountain and watched Galra pass them by. Most pointedly paid them little mind, harboring a singular focus on whatever it was that preoccupied their thoughts which Shiro recognized. He smirked at the thought and reached down between them, his hand dropping comfortably onto Keith’s knee. 

It was then that Shiro noticed a pair of Galra sitting at a nearby table. Their gold eyes watched them with striking intensity that at one time would have made Shiro shudder. He didn't recognize them; they were too young to have been at the forefront of the fight. Turning back to Keith, he asked—only half-joking—whether they were their minders. 

“No,” Keith said, but then seemed to reconsider. “At least I don't think so. The minders would sit much closer to make it easier for them to eavesdrop. We're not a subtle people.” 

“So what’s the interest in us?” 

A shy smile graced Keith's lips. “If I had to guess, I’d say it has to do with the fact that Galra aren't known for public displays of affection,” he said, his eyes pointedly sliding to the thumb that moved at his knee before coming to meet Shiro's gaze once more. 

This gave Shiro pause and his thumb stilled on Keith's knee. “Would you like me to stop?” 

Keith's smile grew, slow and languid, a private unspoken sentiment passing between them. “No.” 

Shiro smiled and let his thumb swipe over Keith’s knee again. Message received; transmission returned. 

They sat and watched Daibazaal’s new normal pass them by in a comfortable silence. After a time the younger Galra grew tired of their reconnaissance and stood, walking away. It was then that a familiar ache grew in Shiro’s belly. “Any chance there’s somewhere to eat nearby?” he asked. 

“As it happens…” 

Keith led them across the park and back out into the bustling cityscape where they weaved between other Galra citizens before Keith turned down a side street. The universal and unmistakable scent of hot grills and fresh ingredients assailed them the moment they rounded the corner. Lanterns hung from shop fronts and crisscrossed the alleyway overhead. 

A step ahead of him, Keith spun on his heel and walked a few paces backwards. “Welcome to food alley,” he said with a cheeky grin. “We might not have the range of options an intergalactic hub would have, but I have it on _good authority_ that there’s more than one promising upstart on this stretch.” 

Shiro smiled, picking up the reference to their absent friend. “Anyone who boasts Hunk’s seal of approval is alright in my book.” Keith’s grin widened as if in triumph and he spun back around, falling into step beside him. 

Keith led them to one of the smaller venues and they ducked inside. Hardly a dozen seats, the space was quiet and intimate but well-kept. Cozy, almost. Hardly something Shiro would have expected from the Empire. 

_Not the Empire now,_ he reminded himself as they took a table at the far wall. Once settled, a tall Galra emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray loaded down with glasses and a small cluster of plates. She greeted both, almost shyly, and set her load down on the table before them. She then disappeared back into the kitchen as quickly as she had appeared. 

Shiro quirked an eyebrow at the man across from him, curious. 

“Anyone in this alley who’s worth their salt only specializes in a few things,” Keith explained, “so no menus. For the grilled _rohinu_ , you go to Yoran. For _ariv_ , only get it from Varik. And Kerax has the best _manarvak_ this side of the planetary cap. The only better place is on the underside in the Southern Reach.” [2] 

Shiro fought a smile. “I don’t know what any of that means, but I’ll take your word for it.” He tapped the closest plate to him and asked, “So whose specialty is for dinner?” 

They laughed and talked and ate and Shiro felt himself relax all the more. He had missed this, missed being himself, missed being with Keith. It was this quiet comfort that made him muse aloud, “We have to figure out a way to get the Alliance routes closer more often. I think the members would benefit from seeing how much has changed.” 

Keith gave him a small smile. “We could send the ATLAS. I hear the Captain has some influence on the Council.” 

Shiro smirked. “I hear he’s biased.” 

A faint blush appeared on Keith’s cheeks at that. Recovering, he said, “Nothing wrong with a little bias, if it brings good things to the Alliance.” 

“And you think preying on the ATLAS Captain’s good graces will benefit the Alliance?” 

“Of course,” Keith told him. He then leaned forward as if relaying some great secret and Shiro mirrored his posture. “I hear one of the Galra delegates is similarly biased after all. Could offer some good leverage, for both sides really.” 

“What do you suggest? Trade agreements? Personnel exchanges? Visa waivers?” 

“Something more personal, perhaps. The ATLAS Captain and this representative have history.” 

“You have good intel. That’s an interesting angle, though.” Shiro’s eyes drifted to the empty air just over Keith’s shoulder. “Something that would tie them closer together then. Direct comms are already established, I hear. Regular port calls, ship riders—” 

“He could just marry him.” 

Shiro started at the comment, delivered so matter-of-factly it nearly derailed the rest of his thought process. He turned his attention back to Keith and found him nonchalant as he shrugged, as if the suggestion wasn't about them at all. 

“Long history of political alliances and all that,” Keith said, tone light and unaffected. “Seems like a reasonable method to pull the Galra more closely into the Alliance's good graces.”

But as Shiro watched him, he saw the truth in the words. The longing, the love, the fragile hope Keith hid beneath his practicality. _Play the game,_ Shiro told himself. “There is that,” he acknowledged. “But there’s a natural progression to these sorts of things. If they get married, they’ll want a wedding. And if they get a wedding, then they’ll want time away.” 

“Naturally,” Keith agreed with a smirk. 

“Two weeks at least. Four if they can swing it.” 

Keith snorted. “Four weeks without the ATLAS Captain, how would the Garrison survive?” 

“They'll manage,” Shiro answered, tone dry. 

“And what would the _universe_ do, without both of them for that long?” 

“Hopefully keep its own shit together for once.” 

There was a moment’s pause as Keith’s gaze softened on him, transparent in his affection. But then he gathered the veil of feigned professionalism about himself once more. “Certainly a course of action worth considering,” he said, his eyes sliding away at last. 

Shiro was tempted to press, but let the moment pass. 

Before long, they finished the last of their meal, paid the venue’s proprietor, and stepped out into the alleyway once more. Night had fallen as they talked and Shiro spent much of the walk back to Keith’s quarters entranced by the twinkling lights of the city. It was so like the sprawling metropolises he remembered on Earth from years before. He filed the thought away but kept it to himself, not wanting to dampen the evening. 

Upon entering Keith’s quarters, however, their early banter caught up to him. “Hey,” Shiro whispered, catching Keith’s wrist in his left hand as he moved past him into the living area. Keith paused and let himself be drawn in half a step closer, eyes attentive and curious. Shiro swallowed, tamping down the fluttering in his belly. Dropping his eyes to the scant empty space between them, he murmured, “Did you mean it? Do you want to?” Rallying his confidence, he brought his gaze up to meet Keith’s. “Get married, I mean.” 

Keith’s eyes searched his for a long, breathless moment. But then his smile dawned like the desert sun, brilliant and beautiful. It took Shiro’s breath away. 

With a gentle tug at the wrist in his hand, he pulled Keith into his arms and—cradling his face in his hands—leaned down to kiss him. 

*****

As with all good things...the end came too soon. 

In the diplomatic hangar, Keith clung to Shiro—his love, his partner, his _fiance_ now—and buried his face against the man’s neck, heedless of the audience he knew watched from the control room high above them. He didn’t care; he just wanted more time, needed one last embrace before the inevitable parting. 

Their days together on Daibazaal had hardly been enough. It was a sentiment that was mutual, judging by the way that Shiro’s arms held him with nearly bruising force. If anything, the respite had made the ache _greater_. The realization caused his throat to clench around the whimper that threatened to spill from his lips even as his eyes stung with telltale pinpricks. Why did it _hurt_ so much? Why did it _have_ to _hurt_ so much? 

It was then that Shiro pulled away, but only so far. Far enough to take Keith’s face in his hands as he had the night before. His thumbs caressed Keith’s cheeks, as if soothing away tears that had yet to be shed, before leaning in to capture his lips with his own. It was a sweet kiss: a promise. Keith’s fingers clenched in Shiro’s shirt, feeling the warmth from his chest. 

When they parted, Shiro gave him a gentle smile. “We have a wedding to plan.” 

And despite the ache in his chest, Keith laughed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] The “Combat Information Center” or CIC aka the Operations Room is the tactical center of a warship providing processed information for command and control of the near battlespace.
> 
> [2] All totally made up. Thanks [Star System Name Generator](http://www.scifiideas.com/star-system-name-generator/)!


	2. Phase Zero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Something old, something new…’ As the IGF ATLAS completes its final stages of long-overdue maintenance, repair, and training in orbit around Earth, Keith comes home.

Shiro was getting impatient. 

The ATLAS was docked back on Earth and was in the final stages of a long-overdue maintenance, repair, and training cycle. Shiro himself had been subject to extensive debriefing and medical check-ups, as had the rest of the crew, but he doubted the itch that forced him to keep moving had to do with the doctors. No, he surmised it had to be the constant drumbeat of activity taking him from system to system. Most of the ship repairs and exercises had been in friendly systems, far from Earth's jurisdiction. It was odd to be 'home' and walking around in natural gravity for and extended period of time. Even more so was the discovery of legitimate ‘off-duty’ time, which he had been startled to discover he had actually _forgotten_ about over the course of their long deployment. 

But the longer he was on Earth, the more he wanted to leave. When the ATLAS was at the forefront of progress, it was hard to think of anything else as anything other than a step back. 

_Onward, onward, onward,_ he mused to himself as he stood on the flightline and watched a familiar ship approach. He smiled. _Except when here is exactly where I'm supposed to be._

The Black Lion had been given priority clearance and Shiro watched from the sidelines as she came to rest light-footed on the tarmac, hydraulics hissing, before walking like some prowling cat toward him and the designated diplomatic hangar. As the machine ducked inside the bay doors, he followed to watch her sit back on her haunches before crouching down close to the ground to release her paladin. Keith stepped out of the maw a moment later and the Lion retreated once more, straightening to her full height above them. 

Alone in the hangar—pretense forgotten for a time—Shiro and Keith both bolted toward one another and threw their arms around each other. Laughing, Shiro let the momentum of the collision take them and they spun, Keith's feet lifting off the ground with ease as his arms tightened around Shiro's neck and shoulders. They slowed and stilled and Shiro pulled back only so far as to catch Keith's gaze with his own, saying, “Welcome to Earth. Hope you enjoy your stay.” 

Keith snorted. “I _intend_ to,” he assured, leaving little room for argument as he craned his neck up to kiss him. 

Shiro sighed against him, tightened his hold on his partner— _fiance!_ —and let his eyes slip closed. A feeling of _rightness_ passed over him and as they broke their kiss, he ducked his head to press his cheek against the crown of Keith's head. His arms relaxed their grip around his waist and Shiro allowed himself to sway slightly as they held one another there in the otherwise empty hangar, Black watching them from on high. 

"Did the Garrison release you?" 

The question ghosted against his neck. Shiro smiled, unseen. "Released on my own recognizance. Against their better judgment perhaps. You've got me all to yourself for the next few days." 

"When do you ship out?" Keith asked then, pulling away and straightening. 

"Next week, if the schedule holds." 

"Block leave," Keith surmised, his eyes drifting to the expansive desert beyond the hangar doors. 

Shiro wondered if the phrase brought back memories from what felt like a lifetime ago for Keith as much as it did for him. Memories of burning time and racing hoverbikes through canyons beyond the reach of human civilization. Judging by the soft smile gracing Keith’s lips, he probably wasn’t alone with his memories. 

“And with block leave, I don’t plan on being anywhere near the Garrison,” Shiro said, turning them toward the hangar doors. “I got us a room downtown...though I don’t expect we’ll spend much time there.” 

“Not unless we find our venue,” Keith acknowledged. “We only have a couple of days of overlap. Need to make it count.” 

*****

The room was in fact a suite, though Shiro insisted he hadn’t reserved it as such. Upon their arrival, Keith had caught the wide-eyed excitement from the otherwise pleasant staff and suspected the upgrade had been complementary. It was a massive suite too, boasting a large bedroom and a separate sitting area with a balcony overlooking Plaht City and the desert that stretched onward beyond. 

Keith made a beeline for the view, sliding the door aside and stepping out onto the balcony. He wrapped his hands around the sun-warmed wrought iron railing and watched the sun rise in the sky with a promise of the sweltering heat to come. Shiro joined him soon after, wrapping his arms around Keith’s waist from behind and ducking his head to rest his chin on Keith’s shoulder. 

“We need to scope out a hotel too,” Keith said, leaning back into the sturdiness of Shiro’s broader frame, “for us and the guests.” 

“If you like this one, we can make that decision easily enough.” 

Keith nodded to himself. The hotel was the tallest in the rebuilt city, though not the largest, management clearly preferring to serve fewer guests than cater to masses flowing in and out of the city on Garrison or Alliance business. Meant there was less chance of running into work associates. The design of the hotel itself drew inspiration from the human and Olkari owners. It felt as if it had always been there, a staple of the desert community in which it thrived, rather than freshly raised a year or so prior. Keith smiled. “If they can fit us all in…” 

“They can.” 

There was laughter in the words and as Keith turned in Shiro’s arms, he found him smiling. “You did recon,” he deduced. “No fair.” 

Shiro shrugged. “Only out of curiosity.” 

Keith’s smile softened. “Come on. We’ve got work to do.” 

*****

The venue search had been grueling. Already. 

Not being particularly spiritual themselves, they’d eliminated Plaht City’s religious houses outright, which left them with an eclectic collection of secular options which ranged from boring to deeply camp. And none of them had been ‘right.’ 

If anything, it had illustrated for Keith how much had been lost in the Galra invasion, never to return. Earth had been forever changed and in this microcosm of planetary society there was more ‘new’ than ‘old.’ And with the knowledge that they only had a few days together rising to the forefront of his mind, he could feel the pressure to find a suitable venue for their wedding mounting. 

But as they passed by one of the city’s many nondescript alleys, a familiar smell hit him, bringing back memories of a time long before. Earth spices and peppers and hot grills… 

As if reading his mind, Shiro drew up short at the mouth of the alley. “I’ve been here,” he murmured and then amended, looking at Keith, “ _we’ve_ been here.” [1]

“I can’t imagine it’s the same—” 

“Let’s find out,” Shiro interrupted and took his hand, leading them down the unmarked alley. 

They came to a stop at a near-literal hole in the wall from which the smell of home-cooked food wafted. Stepping inside they found three small tables, six chairs between them, and a grill staffed by a dark-haired man who straightened when they entered. “Grab a seat,” he said, gesturing at the chairs. Then he motioned at a small refrigerator that hummed in the corner. “And help yourselves to a beer. I’ll be right with you.” 

Keith and Shiro exchanged a look before parting, Shiro crossing the small room to grab their drinks while Keith went to the man at the grill. Rallying his courage, he said, “There used to be an older woman who worked here—” 

That was as far as he got before the man jumped in. “Ah! That’d be my _abuela_. Usually she _is_ here, but today she’s at home playing with the great-grandkids.” 

Relief flooded Keith at the words. She’d made it. And not only that—her family had survived too. “I’m glad,” he said. “She was always kind to me.” 

At this, the man looked up from his work and regarded him closer. “Were you one of her ‘stray cats?’” When Keith nodded, the man smiled. “She always worried about you all. I’m glad you’re alright.” 

After a few cursory pleasantries, the man passed Keith a plate of tacos and Keith turned to join Shiro at the table in the corner. “Same?” Shiro asked him as he sat down. 

“Same,” Keith replied, again feeling that swell of relief. He dug into their meal, took a bite, and groaned. 

Shiro laughed. “I take it that’s _also_ the same?” 

“How is it?” the cook asked. Unable to answer around a mouthful of food, Keith could only give him an emphatic thumbs-up. The man laughed and thanked him before retreating from view, giving the two of them some space to themselves. 

“Good to know some things stay the same,” Shiro observed, taking a bite of his own taco and looking about as happy as Keith felt. Swallowing, he continued, “Speaking of. There’s a message in the group chat about stag nights.” 

“Already?” Keith asked. He had been so focused on finding a space to get married, he hadn’t considered the lead-up to the event. 

Shiro chuckled. “Yes, it would appear so. Matt and Lance are already riling each other up about it.” 

Keith shook his head. “They don’t have to do that. Or if they’re set on doing something, we could just combine it into one. It’s the same group after all.” 

“I agree that it seems more practical. I don’t want to monopolize their time more than we already are...but do you want to tell them that, or should I?” 

“They might actually listen to you.” 

Shiro smirked and withdrew his mobile. He keyed in a quick message, sent it, and waited. They didn’t have to wait long. “‘Several people are typing,’” Shiro relayed, eyes on the mobile device. 

Keith snorted. “Yeah, I bet they are…” he said and started in on his second taco. 

“Pidge just answered with a dozen various irate emojis. Hunk has said that two parties is always better than one and—and Lance is calling me.” He answered the call and set the device on the table between them. “Hey.” 

“Did he put you up to this?” 

“No—” 

“Am I on speaker?” 

“As it happens—” 

“Keith, did you put him up to this?” 

Before Keith could reply, another alert popped up on Shiro’s mobile. “Matt’s calling.” 

“So conference him in.” 

Shiro tapped a button and Matt was added to their call. “Shiro, did you put Keith up to this?” Matt asked, coming in swinging. 

Keith laughed. It figured their respective Best Man would think the worst of them. 

Lance answered before either of them could weigh in. “I’m getting the sense that this was a mutual idea.” 

“A mutually _bad_ idea,” Matt said. “We’re taking you guys out and we’re taking you out _separately_.” 

“When was the last time each of you actually just...cut back and relaxed and had fun?” Lance asked. 

“Never,” Matt replied. “Or at least not in recent history.” 

“And if I know you guys as well as I think I do, if we take you out together, you won’t be _able_ to relax that much.” 

“Too busy watching out for each other, despite the entourage.” 

“So. Separate bachelor parties.” 

“Alright, alright,” Keith said, finally jumping into the fray. “Two stag nights. We’ll rescind the idea to streamline. Satisfied?” 

“I’m a bit concerned about the prospect of you two ganging up on us,” Shiro admitted, eyes still on his phone. The men on the other end only laughed. “If you’re done, we have to get back to our venue search.”

“Oh exciting!” Lance answered. 

“You mean you’re _not_ getting hitched in the Garrison Chapel?” Matt asked. 

Keith grimaced. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it. “No, we’re not.” 

“Good,” Lance replied sounding severe. “Otherwise I’d be staging an intervention.” 

“But imagine how easy it would be!” Matt fired back. “Color scheme already picked and everything!” An even more adamant chorus of ‘no’s met him from the other three, which only made him laugh. “Hey, for awhile there I assumed Shiro would end up marrying the moon rover, so we’re already in a better place than we could’ve been!” 

*****

Their afternoon search hadn’t gone much better than their first round, but Keith had come to expect as much. So when they approached the Plaht City library—beaten down by the heat and the seemingly futile search—Keith had no reservations about suggesting they go inside for a bit. 

The building was one of the few to have survived the Galra invasion, and one of its exterior walls still bore black scorch marks from high-powered laser blasts as a badge of honor. But inside it was as if the trials of time had gone unnoticed. The library was massive and old, beautiful in its age. Wood floors underfoot and vaulted ceilings overhead enticed one deep into its collections, like a dream out of time. 

“My Dad used to bring me here,” Keith said quietly as they wandered through the main atrium, lined with carved wood archways that led into alcoves and countless rooms and niches beyond. “I always liked how it smelled, how the floorboards creaked. It felt ancient when I was little. It feels even older now. I can’t believe it’s still standing,” he mused as they meandered the floor, his thoughts drifting away to a time long before everything. To a time of scraped knees and untied shoelaces and bedtime stories… 

There was a touch at his fingers where they hung slack at his side and he was startled back into the present as Shiro’s hand slipped into his own. Keith gave him an embarrassed smile, unable to fully meet that calm gaze. “Sorry,” he muttered. Shiro shook his head but said nothing, acknowledging the moment and letting it pass. Keith squeezed the hand he now held and said, “Come on. I want to show you something.” 

He led Shiro up a set of stairs and down a corridor, past rows and rows of bookcases loaded to bear with leatherbound texts miraculously rescued from the clutches of certain destruction. Keith eventually ducked into a room tucked away from the main corridor. The room was circular and simply but classically designed as had been many of the other rooms they had past in their approach. But instead of rows of bookcases, the room was filled with desks and comfortable light. A study space. 

“What do you think?” he asked, trying to tamp down the nervous energy in his belly. 

“As a venue?” Shiro asked, putting the pieces together. When Keith nodded, he scanned the area again with a new set of eyes. “It’s different,” he said at last turning back to face him. “How would you do it?” 

Keith worried his lower lip between his teeth a moment before he could trust his voice. “Well, I’d come out of those doors,” he said, turning to face doors through which they’d entered. Then, facing forward again, he turned his gaze just past Shiro’s shoulder and continued, “And you’d come out of those ones. And we’d meet here in the middle, with all our friends, our family...” Meeting Shiro’s eyes again, he found them watchful and bottomless as a flush crept into his cheeks. He watched as his chest rose with a shallow inhale and then still, as if he was holding his breath. Keith felt telltale pricks at the back of his eyes swallowed past the tightness in his throat. Tilting his head to the side he concluded, “Then we’d go out those doors together.” 

Shiro’s gaze turned to face the doors he referenced. Keith felt the vice around his ribs loosen, no longer held in place by the intensity of those eyes. Eyes still trained on the entryway across the room, Shiro whispered, “What’s on the other side?” 

Keith squeezed Shiro’s left hand in his own and tugged him toward the doors. Opening one of them, he ducked his head quickly inside and found the room miraculously empty for the time being. He pulled Shiro in with him and said only, “The space section.” 

With a final cursory glance at Keith, Shiro turned his whole attention to the room around them and slipped from Keith’s grasp as he strode into the center of the room. The walls were lined with books, separated by cathedral windows. But it was the ceiling that drew another sharp inhale from Shiro. Overhead drifted a holographic map of the solar system, orbiting slowly around the sun. 

Keith was silent for a time, content with watching Shiro’s eyes track the planets and moons as they moved above them. Eventually, he took several measured strides to join his partner and said, “They can project whatever star charts we want. We just have to give it to them.” 

“You did recon,” Shiro said, echoing Keith’s earlier teasing as he cast a sidelong glance down at him. “Not fair.” 

He offered a weak smile in response. “I wanted to know if it was still here.” 

The silence stretched between them, each alone with their thoughts for a time. But then Shiro turned his gaze from the planets overhead to meet Keith’s eyes once more. “We don’t need to look anywhere else,” he murmured. “This is it.” 

Keith felt his stomach flip inside him and he smiled. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Shiro said and, reaching up to cradle Keith’s face in his hands, kissed him. 

*****

After making initial arrangements with the library, they had opted to hop a car back to the hotel to avoid the last of the day’s heat. Their driver seemed content to leave them well enough alone, which was fine with Shiro. He let his eyes drifted to the city outside and watched it pass in a blur. Beside him, he saw Keith pull out his mobile to type a quick message. He then set the device down in his lap and—assuming it was Galra or wedding business—Shiro quickly went back to watching the world outside. 

But then the silence in the car was broken when his mobile _dinged_ at his hip. Shiro winced and muttered a half-hearted apology to their driver as he withdrew the device and silenced it. But then he glanced at the screen. A message. From Keith. Surprised, he cast a questioning glance at his partner, who sat otherwise disinterested in the backseat with him. 

Shiro opened the message and read it. And then he read it again. And again, just to be sure: 

_**I know it's been a long day...but I CAN NOT wait to get you alone.** _

Beside him, Keith sat as aloof as ever. Shiro bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning as he tapped in a response— _ **Oh really? And why's that?**_ —and sent it. 

Moments later, Keith opened the message that blinked on his own mobile device. From the corner of his eye, Shiro watched him run one long finger over his lip before typing a reply. Still calm and collected on the surface, no signs of the direction that Shiro sensed this conversation was going. When his mobile alerted him, Shiro opened the latest message. 

_**You're happy. And tired. Which means you've got this aura about you that's...rare. I don't see it often. And it's very sexy.** _

Shiro worried his lip between his teeth. He could feel the heat rise in his cheeks and brought up his elbow to lean against the car door as he covered his mouth with his hand, watching the world go by for a moment as he tried to collect himself. He never considered himself 'sexy.' Keith’s directness was thus as endearing as it was enticing. Resisting the urge to lick his lips, he sent off another missive. A challenge this time: _**What are you going to do about it?**_

At last, Shiro watched as Keith's façade faltered. His lips parted and he inhaled sharply, albeit silently, as he read the message. His violet eyes then came up to meet Shiro's from across the backseat. They were questioning and uncertain at first; but as their eyes lingered on one another, Shiro offered him a playful smile and hoped his eyes could convey all the unspoken volumes. _Tell me,_ he thought and hoped Keith could feel the static building between them. _Tell me what you'll do._

Keith took a deep breath. And then he turned back to his mobile, furiously tapping into the device in the greatest demonstration of ‘Mission Accepted’ that Shiro had seen in some time. 

Smirking in pre-emptive victory, Shiro turned his eyes back to the world outside. When they arrived at the hotel, he paid their driver and stepped out of the car. Only then did his mobile alert him to a new message. With a pointed look at his partner, he opened the message and began to read as he followed Keith into the lobby. 

Keith had taken his mission _very_ seriously. His response was long and detailed, incredibly sultry...and very, very explicit. Shiro kept reading even as he followed Keith through the hotel lobby and into the elevator bank. He read still as they stepped into an empty car, road it to their floor, and walked down the hallway to their room. He didn’t finish the message until they stepped into their suite. 

Feeling smarmy, Shiro finally said, “I have questions—" 

But that was as far as he got. Keith took the device from his hand and tossed it aside onto a nearby counter, his hands going to Shiro’s belt as he backed him into the room and up against the couch. His eyes were dark and hungry as he hissed, “Please allow me to demonstrate,” moments before he reached up, fisted Shiro’s hair, and pulled him down for a bruising kiss.

*****

Evening found them lounging half-clothed in their hotel suite on the couch. The door to the balcony stood open, the desert breeze rustling the gauzy curtains while sounds of the city drifted up to them from below. Shiro’s head was cradled in Keith’s lap and his fingers combed through the silver strands with an unhurried affection. Shiro’s eyes had long since closed, dark lashes brushing his cheekbones, lulled ever closer to sleep by the soothing caress. 

Keith took the opportunity to study every new hint of wrinkles to come on the man’s face with adoration—lines meant time passed, years aged, days which Shiro had never expected to see and had. They were meant to be celebrated as far as Keith was concerned. He committed them to memory to revisit as they grew deeper and more pronounced. He wondered idly if Shiro studied him in the same way, if Shiro saw _himself_ in the same way. 

As if he’d spoken aloud, Shiro murmured, “I’m thinking of dying it.” 

Unprompted, the comment didn’t quite make sense at first. But then Keith registered the silver strands in between his fingers and rejected the very notion. “Your hair?” he asked. “Why?” 

Shiro was quiet for a time, but then confided, “Because of how people talk to me. What they expect of me. Enough alien races have engaged with humans that they’ve come to associate hair this color with age. And despite the rank, I’m not exactly anxious to join the graybeards just yet.” [2] 

Unseen, Keith smirked as he continued his ministrations. _Getting old._ Shiro had never really considered the possibility, assuming his disease would kill him long before age was much of a factor. But in truth, none of them had considered the likelihood of aging into their prime—too young and focused on the present, too dangerous to think of an end that didn’t involve flaming wreckage. Now that it _was_ a possibility, it begged the question of whether it was a _preferred_ end. 

“If you really don’t like it, I won’t stop you,” Keith told him. “But _I_ think it’s beautiful.” Turning his attention to the head in his lap, his thumbs caressed Shiro’s temple. “It’s not white, or gray really. It’s like starlight. A color all to itself.” 

After a moment, Shiro’s eyes opened to look up at him. Steel gray beneath the color of outer space. “Do you really think that?” The question was honest, hesitant, and betrayed some deeper uncertainty.

Keith smiled. “Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] You'll get some of this story later in the fic. 
> 
> [2] Some squishiness for timelines. Courtesy [insights from S7 and folks on Reddit](https://www.reddit.com/r/Voltron/comments/9julev/just_realized_something_interesting_about_voltron/) we know that Voltron spent about a year or so fighting the Galra before Sam Holt is wormholed back to Earth, which predates all the wonky time slippage. In “[Stolen Time](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17100119),” I added a year to the timeline with Shiro being missing post-S2 fight with Zarkon. Then add two years ahead of the Allurance wedding (again in “Stolen Time”) plus two more for this story. And BOOM—our baby has cleared the 30-year mark! So proud!


	3. Mission Parameters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro and Keith’s engagement is winding down and wedding planning—done in fits and starts as the two of them navigate their respective duties—is finally coming to an end. But there’s a fair bit of celebrating to do before the two tie the knot if the rest of Team Voltron has its way.

Keith had come to the arrival hall early and watched as families slowly filled the space. Human and not, banners that read ‘Welcome Home’ in dozens of languages from Earth and otherwise. Children of a variety of species watched in excited awe as the ATLAS emerged from the cloud cover and initiated standard landing procedures. Once the massive ship was grounded and the space secured, the guards opened the doors and allowed them all out onto the flightline to await their absent partners and parents. Keith hung back and watched the reunions in waves as the ATLAS crew disembarked and his heart ached from the sight of so many happily together again. 

He had half-expected Allura to be among them. She had been kept on Earth when a pre-deployment medical scan had revealed she was pregnant. During another visit to Earth several months prior, he had taken her to dinner and she had still been fuming about being left behind, even after they had designated her ATLAS’s liaison officer back on Earth. He smirked at the thought.

Keith turned then and scanned the dwindling crowd on the tarmac. Familiar faces were noticed and the occasional friendly wave was exchanged; but still he waited alone. With the crew released, only the officers remained. As a cluster of them approached the arrival hall, he recognized most from the CAG [1] and spotted Lance among them. The other paladin met his eyes and waved enthusiastically. With what Keith assumed was a parting farewell to the others he had disembarked with, he jogged over to him. They embraced as friends and Keith didn’t bother fighting the smile that graced his lips.

When they parted, Lance gave him a once-over, hands gripping his shoulders to hold him still for the inspection. “You look good,” he said. “When’d you get in?”

“A few days ago. I wanted to be here when you landed. I had thought Allura might’ve been here too…”

Lance shook his head and dropped his hands from Keith’s shoulders, one sliding easily into a pocket while the other repositioned the shoulder strap to his bag. “She sent me a note to say she’s in the lab with Pidge and Matt. I’m heading there now to meet her.” A thought seemed to cross his mind and he worried his lower lip between his teeth before he continued, “Shiro should be out soon. You know how it can be—disconnecting from it all.” He gestured vaguely with his hand at his temple.

Keith nodded. “I know.”

And still Lance hesitated. “Do you want me to stay with you?”

“No,” Keith told him with an adamant shake of his head. He clapped Lance on the shoulder and tipped his head towards the door behind him which led to the arrival hall and into the Garrison complex beyond. “Go on.”

Lance grinned at this. “Still on for dinner at your place tomorrow night, after Hunk gets in?”

“That’s the plan. You’ve got 24 hours, released on your own recognizance.”

Lance saluted haphazardly as he took several backwards steps toward the door before spinning on his heel and disappearing from sight. Alone once more, Keith turned his eyes to the ATLAS and watched the ground crew begin their work, securing and preparing the ship for maintenance. 

And then—finally—a solitary figure emerged from the ship’s ramp and began to walk toward the arrival hall. Keith straightened and  _ willed  _ himself to stand still and wait. He had waited nearly a year for this week to arrive; he could wait another five minutes for Shiro to finish setting aside his rank and its associated burdens.

Because that was indeed what he was doing, Keith knew. Lance hadn’t been facetious—the more distance Shiro put between himself and the ATLAS, the more he disengaged from the ship’s sentience and his duty at its helm, leaving behind the mental weight that tethered him to the behemoth like discarded armor.

As Shiro neared and came within earshot, Keith took the time to study him. Gone was the uniform, replaced with plain clothes and aviators. His smile came easy. He was relaxed and happy and so impossibly beautiful. Keith felt the words on his tongue seconds before they fell from his lips. “Hey Starlight.”

Barely an arm’s length away now, Shiro drew up short. His lips parted in a surprised, silent gasp while his chest heaved on the inhale then went suddenly still. Keith looked up into the mirrored sunglasses which hid Shiro’s gray eyes so abysmally well and he worried for a split second he had overstepped with the endearment.

But then Shiro closed the remaining distance between them and reached out a hand to caress Keith’s face, calloused fingers stroking his jawline. He then ducked his head and captured his lips in a bruising kiss. 

Keith closed his eyes and deepened the kiss, his tongue darting forward and slipping between Shiro’s parted lips. His hands came forward to stroke up Shiro’s sides with his fingertips before wrapping his arms around his waist and tugging him closer until they were flush against each other. He felt Shiro shiver despite the heat of the day, and it only made him hold him tighter.

When at last they broke the kiss, Keith reached up to clasp the back of Shiro’s neck and hold him close, pressing their foreheads together. “Let me take you home,” he murmured.

Shiro chuckled darkly. “That sounds like a fantastic idea.”

*****

They had in fact rented out the entire hotel for the wedding guests, the two penthouse suites reserved for the soon-to-be newlyweds and Krolia respectively. They had taken the elevator up to the top floor and as they passed the door to what would be Krolia’s suite en route to their own, Shiro had asked, “Is it okay that your mom is our neighbor?” 

“Let’s be honest,” Keith had replied as he keyed their door open and stepped inside, “is there anyone else on the guestlist you’d rather it be?”

Shiro had hardly had to consider it. “Nevermind,” he had said, and any lingering concern about the arrangements had been summarily dropped. They had then spent the rest of their evening alone getting... _ reacquainted. _

They woke slowly the next morning, limbs wrapped around each other and wholly unwilling to disentangle themselves...until Keith's stomach growled, at least. Laughing, they put themselves to rights and set about their day. Showers then breakfast, followed by last minute wedding preparation duties with the Plaht City Library. All was going according to plan, which—if Keith was honest with himself—was raising his hackles. Nothing  _ ever  _ went according to plan. 

When he told his fiance as much, Shiro grimaced. “I know how you feel,” he confessed, his eyes betraying his own anxieties, “but maybe this time…?”

Maybe this time would be different. Maybe this time the universe would be kind. Maybe this time things would work out according to plan…

Keith tamped down his nerves and continued going about their duties.

*****

Their suite had a small kitchen which opened up onto the wide and welcoming common area. Given the space, they had invited the wedding party over for dinner once Pidge was able to escape her Garrison responsibilities and Hunk arrived back on-planet. A reunion of sorts, before the week got away from them. 

First to arrive at their door was Hunk himself. The man had been traipsing the universe as an Alliance envoy and Earth diplomat for years now. Keith couldn’t imagine a better role for him, building bridges with farflung civilizations. He smiled to himself as he watched the man pull Shiro in a tight hug when he greeted him, already talking a mile a minute. 

“I counted the months since I last saw you on the way up here and couldn't believe how long it’s been,” Hunk said, large arms secured tightly around Shiro’s ribs. “I understand why they send you out first. Vanguard, and all. But they can’t find a way to let our tours overlap at least  _ once  _ with the ATLAS? It’s ridiculous. You all need decent food too, sometimes! As evidenced by abysmal Garrison mess menu and the fact that I think you’ve lost weight.” From his vantage point, Keith saw Hunk glare at nothing in particular while he tightened his grip on the man in his arms, as if judging whether Shiro was taking sufficient care of himself and deciding the answer was ‘no.’ 

Shiro laughed and returned the embrace one-armed, having left the prosthesis disconnected and sitting in their bedroom. “It’s good to see you too Hunk.”

But then it was Keith's turn, and even though he had expected the hug, it startled him all the same as he was enveloped in massive arms. “Keith!” Hunk cried. “How is Daibazaal? Is Yoran still making that awesome  _ rohinu _ ?" [2]

Shiro chuckled from his place off to the side and asked, “Hunk, what can I get you?”

“You have any of that Toriga wine Zethrid likes to make?”

Keith scoffed as he and Hunk split apart. “You think I’d come back to Earth without it?” 

The Holt siblings arrived next and Pidge skipped the hosts in favor of launching herself into Hunk’s waiting arms. Matt laughed as he shut the door behind him and pulled Shiro into a fierce hug. He then came up to Keith where he stood at the stove and wrapped his arms around him from behind. “Welcome to Earth. What’s for dinner? Hopefully it’s something edible.”

Keith could feel Matt shift and guessed he had shot a suspicious look at Shiro, judging by the self-deprecating laughter coming from his partner. “Something of Hunk’s design, actually,” Keith told him.

“Ah. Awesome. The evening is saved.” Matt leaned in close then to say, “It’s good to see you,” before pulling away—

Only for Pidge to slot into his place. “Keith! I’ve missed you!”

Keith turned then—confident the ingredients sizzling on the stovetop could survive a few seconds unchaperoned—and hugged Pidge tightly. “Missed you too. Hope you’ve been keeping the Garrison on its toes.”

She grinned wickedly. “You know it.” She winked at him as she retreated, taking the glass Shiro offered her as she passed him and moved into the main living area.

Finally, Lance and Allura appeared at their door, which Lance swept open without knocking and declared, “Where are they?” before spotting Shiro and all but tackling the man. “I am  _ so  _ excited! Is Matt as excited as me?”

“I’m sure—”

“No! The answer is ‘no,’ Shiro. No one is as excited about this as me.” He pulled back only so far as to squint up at Shiro and admit, “Except  _ maybe _ you and Keith, but only just barely,” before burying his face in Shiro’s chest again.

Trailing only a few steps behind her husband, Allura smirked. “I’m beginning to suspect this may in fact be true, being privy to the group chat.” Striding up to Shiro—who was struggling to pat Lance’s back with his arm pinned to his side—she leaned forward to kiss his cheek and crossed to Keith’s side in the kitchen. “It’s so good to see you again,” she murmured, stretching out her hands.

Keith pulled her to him in a fond embrace. “Likewise. It’s felt like an eternity. How are you holding up? You look like you swallowed a basketball.”

Allura laughed and pulled back to look down at her swollen abdomen. “Not far from the truth. Baby’s healthy. I’m healthy...if uncomfortable. I don’t know  _ how  _ human mothers deal without the ability to transform. Everything feels so  _ compressed _ .”

“Let’s get you something to drink and off your feet then.”

From near the door, Shiro piped up, “Ah. That’s my cue. Lance, glue yourself to the other half for a bit while I take care of Allura.”

“Roger that,” Lance answered, finally withdrawing from Shiro and locking eyes on Keith.

Keith only managed a weak, “Oh no—” before Lance had him. Keith squirmed just enough to turn and give the food in the skillets a quick turn. “Good to see you too, Sharpshooter.”

Lance was undeterred, dropping his chin on Keith’s shoulder to peer down at the stovetop. “Smells good,” he said. “Can I help with anything?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

When Lance spoke again, his tone was a marked shift. “How are you doing?” Serious now and soft enough to not carry beyond the two of them. 

Keith worried his lip between his teeth. The question brought all his pre-wedding jitters to the forefront of his mind. “Okay.”

Lance hummed in unspoken acknowledgement. “We’ll talk later,” he said, withdrawing. 

Keith glanced over his shoulder to watch him go before turning his attention back to meal prep, content to eavesdrop and let Shiro wrangle their guests. He knew that left to his own devices, his fiance much preferred being a wallflower and sticking to the sidelines. But Keith also knew if you gave Shiro a mission, he’d execute it. The mission of the day: bartender and host to their friends. 

“Shit that’s a strong pour,” Pidge declared, eyeing her glass with great suspicion. 

“The best kinds of pours,” Matt countered, raising his own glass to Shiro who mirrored the gesture.

“I’d bartend my own wedding if Keith would let me.”

“I will  _ not _ ,” Keith replied at his place by the stove, nursing his own mostly-forgotten drink. As he worked, Shiro ducked in close and dropped a peck on his cheek before retreating once more to fill drink requests for their friends.

“To be fair,” Hunk began, “I think you’ll be busy, what with getting married and all.”

“Yeah, one would think.”

“It seems rather rude for the rest of us to be imbibing and you can’t,” Matt said, eyes drifting to Allura.

She waved off his concern. “Please don’t refrain on my account. I can vouch for Shiro’s mocktail skills,” she said, raising a glass of mixed juices as a salute to their hosts. 

“Are you excited?” Hunk asked, leaning close. His eyes practically sparkled with excitement of his own.

“Of course,” Allura assured with a wide smile…which then turned bitter. “Though I’m still sore about getting left behind on this last deployment.”

Shiro winced. Lance meanwhile argued, “It was an eight-month deployment!”

“And Altean babies gestate for a year!”

Pidge waded into the conversation before Lance could retort. “I heard you fought this decision.”

“She did,” Lance and Shiro replied in unison. 

“How so?” Hunk asked Allura, prying. “Who did you fight?”

“The Chief Medical Officer, for starters.”

“He was waiting for us at the foot of the ramp,” Lance added. 

“And then Shiro appeared and I made my case, all while the CMO was arguing against my going.”

Lance jumped in seamlessly, “And I’m sure ATLAS was in the back of his head demanding he board the damn ship—”

“It was.”

“—Shiro finally says, ‘Enough,’ and set two conditions.”

“One: I call her, she's coming,” Shiro said.

“And two,” Allura picked up the story once more as she took the offered glass, “I was designated the ATLAS crew’s voice back at Headquarters. Which in hindsight is a  _ terrible  _ job, but it was the closest thing to being deployed with you all.  _ That  _ I appreciated.” She smiled over at Shiro, who tipped his head in acknowledgment. “It also meant I got to read all of the ship logs, which were a veritable ‘gold mine’—as you say here—of absurdity. I'm convinced ATLAS is the only ship to experience all that it does.

“Many of the logs are simply box-checking measures. ‘Went to such-n-such system to do some important thing for the Alliance,’” Allura continued, but then her smile turned predatory. “Whenever I would read those logs, I would assume that Shiro had perhaps gotten ready for sleep, finally, after another grueling day only to realize, ‘Dammit, the log!’”

Shiro chuckled. “That’s not...that’s not far off-mark, as it stands.”

“No one can argue that the crew has done good work and continues to do good work and that’s clear, but I especially liked the logs which I have come to refer to as the ‘ATLAS Command Bullshit’ collection.” To Shiro, she urged, “You  _ have  _ to publish.”

“It  _ is  _ published.”

“ _ Outside  _ of the mission log,” Allura pressed. 

“She’s got a point,” Matt intoned, throwing back the last of his drink. “A tell-all autobiography of a Black Paladin would sell for sure, but ‘Misadventures of the IGF ATLAS’ as told by its captain would never stay on the shelves  _ anywhere _ .” 

“I’m not writing a tell-all about the Command Bullshit.”

“Even one focused on the stuff that goes beyond the usual?” Lance asked. 

Shiro grimaced. “The fact that there’s a ‘usual,’  _ accepted  _ level bullshit is noted and a source of some concern.”

“I’m confused,” Keith said, looking up from the stove. “ _ What _ ‘Command Bullshit?’”

“Oh, like the ‘time warp,’” Lance answered sounding too pleased with himself, knowing something Keith did not.

“The what?”

Before Shiro could reply, Lance answered again, “We discovered early in this deployment that the ATLAS has made some upgrades of its own. Like allowing Shiro to get anywhere on the ship within five minutes.”

“No way!” Matt exclaimed, followed by an equally excited Pidge who mused, “Too cool.”

Keith considered this. “Like...teleporting?”

“Kind of,” Shiro answered before Lance jumped in again.

“It’s like a bubble of warped space and time. You just...walk forward with an intent to get somewhere on the ship and ATLAS takes it from there. No one sees you pass by, and it doesn’t impact the ship’s positioning, but it sure beats trekking all the way.”

“Bet Dad had a field day with that one,” Matt mused and Keith caught him and Shiro exchanging knowing looks. Sam Holt was exasperated with his creation more often than not these days. Ships were not supposed to upgrade themselves when they felt like it and were  _ definitely  _ not supposed to bend the space-time continuum to make their captain's life easier. 

As if sharing the sentiment, Allura mused, “The ATLAS isn’t  _ just _ a ship after all. It does what it wants when it wants how it wants.” Then she leveled a predatory smile at Shiro and added, “Kind of like Sol 152.”

Without missing a beat, Shiro quoted, “‘Sol 152. A bunch of our ship broke off and no one knows why. I didn’t tell it to do that. Engineering doesn’t believe me.’”

Keith snorted as the rest of the group laughed. As he reached for his glass, he echoed, teasing, “‘Engineering doesn't believe me.’”

“They didn’t!” Shiro contended and Keith could've sworn the man pouted at him before recovering his cool exterior. 

“But it’s not just the ship, but the crew too,” Allura said. “Tell them about Sol 123.”

Shiro groaned and it became clear to those assembled—to their great amusement—that he had committed the worst of the so-called ‘Command Bullshit’ to memory. He took a long swallow from his drink before answering. “Sol 123. Several junior officers have been reprimanded for creating and promulgating an application for intimate encounters with local populations, tied to the ship’s flight plan and scheduled port calls. They’ve been ordered to remedial OPSEC [3] training. Footnote: human sexuality is about to get real freaky.”

“Fuck,” Keith cursed, clapping a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. 

“Yes exactly, as it happens,” Shiro said.

“Pretty much,” Lance concurred, grinning like a devil. 

Another burst of laughter rolled through the group and Keith smiled. With a deep breath, he shut off the burners and said, “Dinner’s ready. Do you want champagne now or later?” 

‘Now’ was the unanimous response. As Keith turned to retrieve the bottle, Shiro asked, “You going to use the sword this time?” 

He looked hopeful. It made Keith blush. “No.” 

“Wait. Can you...can you pop a champagne cork with the sword now?”

Keith turned to find Lance watching with stunned admiration. He shrugged. “Well, yeah.”

There was a heavy pause. And then, “Bet you earned at least 10 additional ‘sexy’ points for  _ that  _ skill.”

Keith’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

Lance’s eyes darted from Keith, to Shiro, then back to Keith. Leaning back in his chair, he addressed the group. “I’d just like us all to take a moment and appreciate how far we’ve all come in our relationships, where Keith can  _ feign  _ ignorance with a straight face and Shiro’s right behind him, all—” he pumped his fist, “‘—Oh yeah. We totally did it.’”

Keith turned on his partner and found him flushed red and laughing, sputtering through his drink. Caught. 

“We see you, Shiro,” Pidge said, smirking.

“We know what you’re about,” Matt piled on.

“And we can’t say we disapprove,” Allura added with a sultry wink, which earned laughter from the group.

To Shiro, Keith said, “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re marrying me,” Shiro countered with a shrug. 

“I realize,” Keith acknowledged, giving his partner a gentle push back out of the kitchen just as Pidge and Hunk appeared with plates they had collected from the table around the corner. 

“Let us help serve,” Pidge insisted.

“Any particular seating?” Hunk asked.

Keith shook his head. “Whatever’s easiest for everyone,” he told them as he finally pulled the champagne from the refrigerator.

Soon the group settled in around the suite’s dining table—Hunk insisting that Keith and Shiro sit beside one another at the head—but before they could dig into their meal, Allura started, seeming to remember something. “Oh! We should have a toast!”

“We don’t have to—”

“Yes, we do,” Hunk argued, then added, “but we’ll compromise. We’ll crowd-source. I’ll start.” He raised his champaign glass and said, “To Keith and Shiro!” 

“And the convening power of a wedding!” Pidge added. The others quickly followed suit, each raising their glasses. 

“To our Black Paladins, now and forever—”

“—social disasters though they may be.”

“To new chapters.”

“To family,” Shiro answered.

Keith felt the shy smile blossom on his lips. “To love,” he added. Above the table, they all tapped their glasses, the clinking crisp and clear amidst wide grins and sporadic ‘cheers’ they exchanged. Once their own glasses were safely planted back on the table, Keith took Shiro’s chin between his fingers and guided him in for an insistent—if chaste—kiss. The cheers from their friends found new vigor, colored with laughter.

Toast sealed with a kiss, the group turned their attention to their dinner. It didn’t take long for reviews to roll in. “Holy shit,” Pidge cried around a mouthful, shielded by her hand, “Keith, this is fantastic!” 

“It’s Hunk’s recipe. I just followed the instructions.”

“No, no, no,” Hunk countered, shaking his head and pointing a large finger at Keith. “This is all you.” The commendation stuck this time, and Keith felt his cheeks burn. 

Matt leaned over to catch Shiro’s eyes and teased, “You’re very lucky to have someone who can cook when you're not on duty.”

“Hey, I can cook!”

“Shiro, candidly. All of us were a bit concerned about this gathering until we heard Keith was manning the stove. We all have emergency services pre-programmed even so.”

“Why? Because you don’t trust Keith either?”

“No, it’s because you’re still in the general vicinity of the kitchen.” [4]

“Shiro  _ can _ cook,” Keith argued, jumping in. He turned his eyes on Hunk and Lance. “Remember that field exercise?”

“Yeah…” Lance’s eyes turned inward as he reflected. “You were the only one with  _ actual  _ food.”

Keith nodded at his partner as he took a drink and reiterated, “Shiro  _ can _ cook. It's just that he gets distracted if it’s not mission-essential.”

“Feeding yourself isn’t considered ‘mission-essential?’” Hunk sounded horrified. 

“But feeding  _ Keith  _ clearly is,” Pidge added, smirking down the table at the two of them. 

Dinner passed in bouts of raucous laughter, stories of their exploits across the universe, and good-natured ribbing. Keith let the waves of it wash over him and felt himself start to relax. The days since his arrival back on-planet had felt like a mad dash to the event that was coming. But for this moment, this evening, time had evaporated and left them all together for the first time in what had been far too long. It was like none of them had ever parted. And with Shiro’s left hand searching out his own to caress his knuckles with a feather-light touch, everything was right in the universe.

But at some point, the conversation turned to the next two evenings: their bachelor parties. Keith groaned. Beside him, Shiro insisted, “We  _ really  _ don’t have to.”

“Yes,  _ we do _ ,” Lance shot back.

Matt narrowed his eyes at the two of them. “I’m not sure why you keep making this the hill you want to die on. They’re bachelor parties. Stag nights. Drunken shenanigans. Everyone should have some before tying the knot. Plus, I for one would like a solid eight hours  _ at least _ when the two of you physically  _ cannot  _ make heart-eyes at each other. Honestly. Rein that in for a bit, would ya?”

“Alright, alright…” Keith acknowledged, waving his hand to dismiss any further argument on the matter.

“Done. Bachelor parties are on. Dudes and Pidge only.”

“Bold of you to assume I don’t also identify as a ‘dude.’”

“Well that settles it.” Turning to his wife, Lance shrugged. “Sorry babe.”

Allura snorted in a most un-princessly way. “Please. Besides, I already have plans with both Shiro and Keith and  _ you  _ aren’t invited.”

Pidge looked across the table at Allura and leaned forward, tone softening. “You sure you can’t come out? Even for a little bit…?”

Allura shook her head adamantly, but smiled all the same. “I wouldn’t make  _ two  _ hours on my feet wandering Plaht City, much less eight.” Turning to eye her husband and Matt, she added darkly, “And I have no intention of being the designated responsible one...though you probably should figure that out.”

Matt choked on his drink and Lance winced. “Right,” he said. “That’s right. Because  _ you two _ —” he jabbed his finger down the table at Shiro and Keith, “—aren’t going to be sober if we have anything to do with it.” He then sighed and scrubbed his face, dejected. “But that means I have to chaperone Keith for an entire evening!”

“What’s wrong with that?” Hunk piped up, eyes confused as they bounced between the others. 

Meanwhile, Matt laughed. “Oh you think  _ you’ve  _ got it bad?” he asked. “ _ I’ve  _ got  _ Shiro  _ to wrangle.”

“There is  _ no way _ Shiro is worse than Keith.”

Matt wagged his finger at Lance. “You don’t know. You have _ no idea _ . I was his roommate when we were cadets. Shiro is one hundred percent filled with chaotic energy and is  _ ready to go _ at all times. You all met the ‘responsible’ side. You’ve only gotten the scraps of what he’s truly capable of.”

“Yeah, well Keith drove his hoverbike  _ off a cliff!” _

“Where do you think he  _ learned _ it?”

“You guys realize we’re here, right?” Keith asked them. “You’re...you’re in  _ our _ suite—”

“Alright, Holt. Alright,” Lance said, raising his glass. “Let’s make this interesting.  _ You _ can be the Designated Responsible One during Keith’s bachelor party.  _ I  _ will take my chances with Shiro.”

Matt squinted at the man and toasted his glass. “You’re on.”

Keith opened his mouth again, but was stopped by a gentle squeeze at his knee from the hand that had drifted there while the Best Men talked. Turning, he found Shiro’s eyes sparkling with subdued—or  _ suppressed _ —mirth.  _ Let him find out the hard way _ , is what those eyes said. Keith was inclined to agree. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] CAG = Commander’s Action Group, a small cross-functional team of key advisers to help with special initiatives and coordination/integration of planning and execution.
> 
> [2] Food alley reference from Chapter 1
> 
> [3] OPSEC = [operations security](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operations_security), or in general terms, the act of protecting individual bits of information from being grouped together and illustrating a bigger picture.
> 
> [4] There is a widespread fandom headcanon that Shiro can not cook to save his life. I personally headcanon that he actually isn't bad...he just has the tendency to get distracted, especially when he's excited about something. Keith's focus is better.


	4. Volley One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro and the wedding party spend the night out and Lance discovers that he has his work cut out for him as the Designated Responsible One. Allura and Keith meanwhile spend the night in with their own festivities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be all this fic was - snapshots in time and bits of dialogue featuring Shiro and Keith each going out with the paladins and cutting loose. Obviously it's become much, much more than that. Enjoy!

Evening came too soon. Shiro had spent much of the day at his fiance’s side, going over the last remaining tasks, getting lunch with Krolia and Kolivan, before finally getting ushered back into their suite for a nap. He and gladly thrown himself into their bed and was fairly certain he had been asleep before his head even hit the mattress. 

He woke slowly to Keith’s gentle kisses and a whispered, “Love you,” ghosting over his temple. 

“Love you too,” Shiro mumbled in response, burying his face in the pillows with a groan. “Can’t I…?” 

“No,” Keith answered decisively, shucking the blankets off of him. “Lance cares too much about this for some inexplicable reason. But I think they’re all looking forward to just...hanging out with you. As friends, you know?” 

“I know,” Shiro said, pushing himself upright and scrubbing his face with his hand. “I know. I just also really like sleep and I’m not going to get any tonight.” 

Keith snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. “I think you can handle one night of debauchery.” 

Shiro shot him a devilish grin. “Just _one_ night? _That’s_ my quota?” 

It had the desired effect: Keith’s cheeks turned pink and he fidgeted for a moment before he gave Shiro a playful grin of his own. But then the moment passed and he took a step backward toward the door. “Lance and company will be here in about thirty minutes. Better hop-to, Captain,” Keith said and then disappeared from sight down the hall. 

Shiro sighed and stretched before pushing himself off the bed, still groggy from sleep. _Perhaps a shower…_ He ducked into the bathroom. 

Once showered and dressed, he slipped back into their bedroom and picked up the prosthesis from the end table to attach the device's components but hesitated, studying the arm for a moment. He hadn’t been inebriated with it attached before and he wondered if he should leave it behind. In the end, he sighed and connected the arm, shaking his head to clear the uncomfortable feeling of the neural networks aligning. At last, he stepped back out into the common area— 

—just as there was a knock on the door. Keith appeared in the foyer to answer it as Shiro rounded the corner, but paused with his hand on the doorknob. He gave Shiro an appreciative once-over before asking, “Ready?” 

“As I’ll ever be,” Shiro answered, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. 

Keith pulled the door open and smartly ducked out of the way as Lance burst through. “Shiro! We’ve come to collect you! It’s time to run amok!” 

Matt was hot on his heels. “You look good,” he said as Pidge and Hunk filed into the foyer beside him. “You ready to paint the town red?” 

“Or black as the case may be,” Pidge corrected. 

Keith chuckled and slipped between them all, coming to stand before Shiro. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Keith said, pulling him down for a kiss. Shiro’s sinister laughter in response was muffled against his lips. 

“There’s not a lot on that list…” Lance muttered from off to the side somewhere. He sounded suddenly very concerned. 

Breaking away from his partner, Keith grinned up at him. “Raise Hell.” 

Shiro chuckled darkly once more and turned to the assembled group, “Let’s go.” 

*****

“So where first?” Matt asked, hooking his arm through Shiro’s. 

“Food,” Shiro answered in no uncertain terms. 

“I’ve got a list ranked on how _bad_ they are for you,” Lance replied. “What are you up for?” 

Shiro considered this and smirked. “What’s at the top of the ‘bad for you’ list?” 

“Yes!” Pidge hissed and punched the air. “I had hoped you’d say that.” 

“So we can all die of indigestion together later,” Hunk mused with a grimace. 

“Don’t worry, Hunk, we’ll hold your hair back when the time comes. What are friends for?” 

“Same goes for you,” Matt said, nudging Shiro with his shoulder. “Remember: Lance is the Designated Responsible One tonight.” 

“I haven’t forgotten…” Shiro winked at his friend, who seemed satisfied enough to withdraw a bit. He sobered then. “I keep worrying about the arm, though,” he admitted. 

“Why?” Hunk asked, as he came up beside them. 

“I was thinking about it earlier, before we left. I’ve never been drunk with it connected. I keep worrying that if I don’t _actively_ remember it’s there, I might end up leaving it behind somewhere over the course of the night.” 

Matt snickered, muttering something about the prosthesis having a mind of its own. Hunk meanwhile seemed to seriously consider Shiro’s concern. After a moment, he said, “Well, whenever you get tired of it and want to disconnect, we can always put it in the bag.” 

“Bag?” Pidge asked from up ahead of them, mirroring Shiro’s unspoken thoughts. She pivoted on her heel to walk backward next to Lance. “What bag?” 

“Oh this one,” Hunk answered as he pulled a small bundle from his pocket. He undid the zipper and shook the fabric to reveal a full-sized duffel bag. 

Shiro blinked owlishly at him before he grinned. “Oh my God, I’m gonna steal _so much_ stuff,” he declared which earned cackles from the Holt siblings. 

“No, no, no,” Lance ordered. “No stealing. Shiro, there are _cops_ on Earth again, man…!” 

Shiro scoffed. “We’re four-fifths a Voltron. We _are_ the cops!” 

“Shiro—!” 

Slinging an arm across Hunk’s shoulder, Shiro pointed ahead of them. “Onward! No one goes home until there are several warrants out for our arrest!” 

_“WHAT?!”_

*****

Keith knocked on the door to Lance and Allura’s suite at the predetermined time, once Shiro and his entourage were gone for the night. Excluded from the alcohol-induced nonsense planned for the bachelor parties, Allura had seen fit to invite Keith and Shiro to her _own_ festivities. 

What she had in mind, Keith couldn’t begin to imagine, so when Allura greeted him at the door he was intrigued but hardly surprised at the sight that greeted him. “What...are you wearing?” 

Allura laughed and shuffled backward to let him into the suite. “Pajamas, of course! This _is_ a slumber party of sorts, seeing as the rest of them will be out for _who knows_ how long and I will most certainly be asleep before they return.” 

Keith strode into the room but couldn’t tear his eyes off her. A onesie. Somewhere, somehow, Allura had found a bright pink onesie. “Doesn’t look like pajamas I’ve ever seen.” _At least not on an adult._ But then Allura turned to shut the door behind him and he started. “There’s a _tail?”_

Allura laughed again, reaching over her shoulders and tugging up the hood Keith couldn’t believe he had missed. Facing him once more, the pieces fell into place. 

“Voltron Paladin reporting for merriment duty,” she said, giving him a salute while sporting a wide grin. She fit the part, dressed head-to-toe in a pink lion onesie complete with ears that adorned the oversized hood on her head. 

Keith fought the smile that threatened to spill out of him and onto his lips. _Adorable._ “You look ridiculous.” 

Allura only laughed harder—clearly as amused with the absurdity as he was—and gave him a gentle shove in the general direction of the bathroom. “There’s one for you, too. Go change while I finish setting up our movie night.” 

Keith hesitated only a moment longer to ask, “...Is it red?” 

Allura grinned. It was all the assurance he needed. 

*****

“How’d you know?” Pidge asked. “How’d you know it was Keith?” 

“I knew twice,” Shiro answered, cheeks burning with emotions and alcohol. 

“Twice?” 

“Yeah, twice. Once was after the fight here on Earth but before we left to chase Honerva. But I knew before then. Part of me knew. Half of me. The _other_ half of me.” He squinted at Lance as he stumbled over the words, the other man’s eyebrows quirking in muted confusion. “It’s harder to explain now. Before it was easier.” 

“The clone, you mean?” Hunk asked. 

“Yeah he... _he_ knew. Before.” 

“But when?” 

“When Keith left and came back. When he was with the Blades. I felt better when he’d be with us or when he'd make contact somehow. I figured it out at some point, but...didn’t think he felt the same…” Shiro grew quiet as the memory flooded him, the knowledge of _how much_ Keith meant, the shock and fear that had followed. “But he does, doesn’t he?” 

“Keith?” Lance asked. “Oh yeah, most definitely.” 

This helped and Shiro smiled warmly. And then—almost giddy—he stated, “We’re getting married.” 

“Yeah, in like...three days. Less than.” 

“But we’re getting _married!”_ he repeated with emphasis. A revelation. A delight. 

“In a very Galra wedding.” 

“Oh it’s a _super_ Galra wedding,” Shiro concurred. “Only way to make it more Galra would be to hold it on Daibazaal and invite _more Galra.”_

“Yeah your guestlist ratios are pretty heavily weighted in the human category.” 

“There’s a lot of you. You’re throwin’ off the curve.” Then Shiro squinted at the marks on Lance’s cheek and asked, “Though do you still count with the...things?” He poked his own cheek for emphasis. 

Lance eyed him with obvious concern. “I would think so.” 

“Keith says the same thing about me, but I’m not always so sure.” 

“Why?” 

“‘Cause of all the metal,” Shiro answered with a grimace. 

“Ah that doesn’t matter,” Matt argued, scowling. “Dad got his knees replaced. He’s still human. Q.E.D,” he added for good measure, jabbing his finger into Shiro’s shoulder with each letter. 

“But think of the augmentation!” Pidge contended. “We could all put telephoto lenses in our eyes and shit.” 

“I could livestream our honeymoon!” 

“Yeah!” 

“No!” Lance countered immediately, wide-eyed at Pidge. 

“Where _is_ the honeymoon?” Hunk asked, shifting topics.

Shiro opened his mouth to reply and promptly shut it again. “No! Clever,” he said, wagging a finger at Hunk who smiled back, all feigned innocence. “Not telling. It’s a secret.” 

“Not even a _hint?”_

“Is it in this...quad-u-rant?” Matt asked, struggling a bit over the last word. 

Shiro considered. That much was probably safe to say. “Yes.” 

“Is it—?” 

“No more hints! Sh…!” Shiro added, covering Matt’s mouth with his hand even as his Best Man laughed against his palm. 

*****

“You look ridiculous,” Allura said, echoing Keith’s earlier sentiments even as she snapped the photo on her mobile. 

Keith tugged at the hood and allowed himself the grace to pout at her. “I look adorable,” he contended. 

“You do, which is what makes it ridiculous,” she said with a grin, tapping furiously on her mobile. 

Panic rose in Keith’s chest. “Don’t send that to your husband!” 

“I wasn’t going to send it to _my_ husband…” 

“Allura—” 

*****

Shiro withdrew his mobile from his back pocket and with some curiosity tapped the message alert from Allura. He then promptly covered his mouth with a hand, delighted at the sight that met him. 

_“Don’t show this to Lance, but...your boy looks good!”_ read the message over the image of Keith wrapped in a blanket on the couch, a red hood with cat ears flipped over his head. His cheeks were flushed as he puckered his lips playfully at the camera, inhibitions forgotten for a rare moment. 

“What?” 

Shiro looked up to find Matt’s curious eyes on him. He pressed in close to his Best Man, handing the mobile over before ducking his head down against Matt’s shoulder, his arms coming around the other man’s waist. 

“Cute,” Matt said with a grin. “He’s a keeper,” he added, handing Shiro’s phone back to him. 

“I know…” Shiro sighed, running the pad of his thumb over the image. Releasing Matt’s waist, he shifted to lean more fully against him, in part to keep the room from spinning too terribly as he keyed in a reply to Allura. 

“Hey! No talking to the soon-to-be hubby!” Lance decried from across the table, spotting Shiro on his mobile. 

“I’m not,” Shiro assured. “It’s your wife.” 

“Oh.” Lance seemed to consider this news. “Well...what did she want?” 

Shiro grinned at him. “To send me a picture of Keith.” 

“Oh, let’s us see!” 

“Nope. No. Not allowed,” Shiro said, sliding the device back into his pocket before the others could grab it from him. 

“By Allura’s orders,” Matt added for good measure, his arm slinging over Shiro’s shoulders to dangle across his chest. 

“Lest we, uh, let the cat out of the bag.” Against his back, Shiro felt Matt groan as if in pain. 

*****

The mobile buzzed from its place balanced precariously on Allura’s swollen abdomen. Keith turned his eyes from the movie and watched her open the message. “Shiro?” he asked, hopeful. 

Allura smiled. Looking up from the device, she asked, “Shall I pass it to you or would you like me to do a dramatic reading?” 

Keith held his hand out before him and Allura promptly dropped the mobile into his palm. She then paused the movie and—muttering something about ‘intermission’—moved away, disappearing down the hall. Alone on the couch, Keith opened the message. 

In response to his picture, Shiro had sent no fewer than two dozen emoji of various kinds, mostly lions, stars, and spinning red hearts. 

Keith smiled. 

*****

“Did you know—Keith can carry me.” 

“Bet you like that,” Matt said, waggling his eyebrows. 

“Yeah. I do,” Shiro told him. _“A lot.”_

“Oh God,” Lance hissed, scrubbing his face with his hands. “Can we not…?” 

Shiro sighed, then, almost wistful. “He’s gonna be so pretty...when we get married...” 

Pidge poked him in the nose—though it seemed like she had to concentrate on her aim to avoid catching him in the eye by accident—and said, “Be honest, Shiro. Keith is _always_ pretty.” 

“He is!” 

“Especially to you.” 

_“He is!”_

Matt chuckled. “Is that your brain or your dick talking?” 

Shiro didn’t miss a beat. “ _Sometimes_ we are in _violent agreement.”_

Lance groaned. 

*****

“Can I give you your gift now?” 

Keith looked up from the bowl of popcorn he was polishing off as the credits rolled on the screen before them. “Gift?” Allura nodded. “You don’t want to wait for the wedding?” 

She shook her head this time. “This is...more personal. It’s a gift _from me for you_ specifically.” 

“What about Shiro?” 

“Oh don’t worry: I have something for him as well. He just has to wait until his slumber party tomorrow night to get it.” 

Keith hesitated only a moment longer before his curiosity got the better of him. “Alright,” he said, setting the popcorn off to the side. 

Approval granted, Allura grinned and stood. She crossed to a nearby bureau and opened a drawer, producing a thin, delicately wrapped package. She moved then to rejoin him on the couch and passed the gift over before settling back into the cushions. “For you,” she said, “on the eve of your wedding.” 

Keith carefully removed the colored paper and opened the box to reveal a data pad. He cast a cursory glance in Allura’s direction before withdrawing the device and switching it on. A text box appeared on the screen before him—

_A select history of past Galra leaders  
_ _for a future Galra leader._

_With Love, Allura_

“Allura…” Keith breathed but couldn’t find the words that would accurately capture his feelings. 

“Despite the attempts by Zarkon's imperial machine to destroy such records, there’s a robust history of Galra Emperors and dignitaries who spread peace through knowledge and diplomacy rather than war,” Allura explained. “I’m grateful for the chance to count the latest one as a friend.” 

Keith swallowed thickly and raised his eyes to meet hers even as his vision blurred with unshed tears. “Allura,” he tried again, but could only settle on the utterly inadequate, “thank you.” 

She gave him a kind smile as her own eyes started to water and leaned forward, arms raised as an offering. Keith took it, embracing her as a friend, as family, and murmured, “Thank you, thank you…” 

*****

The drag show had been an unexpected surprise. The team had nearly lost them as Shiro changed course: he and Matt had split off and strode directly into the bar, arms around each other as they swept past the bouncer, laughing. 

How Shiro had ended up with the fan—a bright pink thing adorned with lace and feathers—he couldn’t truly recall. He snapped it open with aplomb and practiced ease all the same, driven by long-buried muscle memory. When he raised his eyes to the queen, he found her studying him, apparently reassessing her earlier assumptions. “Oh Honey, you keep that,” she assured and with a sultry smile, waltzed away. 

*****

Keith took his leave after he caught Allura falling asleep, tucked into the couch cushions. He shut off the third movie they had chosen for the evening as she dozed beside him then gathered the remnants of their snacks and head into the kitchen. He cleaned up as quietly as he could, hoping to avoid waking Allura. Finally, he slipped out of the onesie and folded it up near the door before heading back over to the couch. 

Gently shaking Allura’s shoulder, he roused her. She blinked up at him, disoriented with sleep. “Hey. Bedtime. I’ll head out.” 

She deflated at the news. “Oh no, I fell asleep.” 

Keith smiled. “I think you needed it. Come on,” he said, offering his hand. Only somewhat begrudgingly, she took hold of it and let him help her to her feet.

*****

Shiro squinted at the duffel bag on Hunk’s shoulder. It was full...of something. Or several somethings. He couldn’t recall. “What sin th’bag?” 

Hunk smiled at him, playful. “Things.” 

“Lots o’ things,” Pidge laughed. 

“Many thin’s,” Matt slurred for good measure. 

“But wha...?” 

Hunk shook his head. “We’ll do a full accounting when we’re all sober, Shiro. Promise.” 

“You shou’ sen’da than k’you no’t’all th’people we co-man-deered thin’s from,” Matt suggested. 

Shiro smirked. “On ATLAS letterhead.” 

Lance sighed and pinched his nose. “No…” 

*****

The sound of struggle brought Keith up from sleep. He pushed himself upright in bed and scrubbed at his eyes. Blinking in the dark, he found Shiro leaning against the wall, hands on either side of his hips, weakly shaking his leg in a poorly executed attempt to rid himself of his pants. Keith watched in amused silence for a moment as Shiro closed his eyes and sighed, his head dropping back against the wall behind him. 

It was too much. Keith snorted, giving himself away. But then there was a weak, “Help,” from his fiance and Keith only laughed harder. 

“Get over here,” he instructed, laughing as Shiro stumbled over to join him on the bed with a groan. Keith pushed his partner down into the mattress and set to work removing his clothes. “I take it you had a good time…” 

“Mm...yes. Fun. I'm...very drunk. Dizzy.” 

He sounded mildly perturbed at this and Keith chuckled. He tossed Shiro's pants aside and tugged his shirt up and over his head. He was about to settle back when Shiro reached up with his left hand to clutch at his shoulder cap and whined. “You could sleep with it on,” Keith reminded him. 

“But I don’t _want_ to sleep with it on…” It sounded to Keith’s ears as if Shiro had taken extra care with the words, the consonants enunciated just so. 'Very drunk' indeed. 

“Okay, okay…” Keith tapped the cap, releasing the device from Shiro's body. He set it aside on the end table and took the prosthesis in hand. “I'll count you down.” Shiro nodded in response and seemed to brace himself. “One...two...three.” Keith disengaged the power cell and Shiro groaned. He then set the arm aside next to the shoulder cap and lay down. 

Shiro rolled over and pressed himself flush against Keith's back, slinging his arm over his waist. He hummed and nuzzled Keith's neck. “Love you,” he whispered with a kiss. 

Keith smiled. “Love you too.”


	5. Volley Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Best cure for a hangover is an awful-for-you brunch, followed by a second night of drunken shenanigans

Keith woke to the sound of Shiro snoring.

He fought a grin as he opened his eyes, blinking against the early morning light that drifted in from under the curtains. At some point in the night, Shiro had rolled onto his back, sprawled spread-eagle across their bed, and was still dead to the world. Keith pushed himself up on his elbow and allowed himself the rare privilege of a moment longer to watch his fiance sleep.

Fiance…soon to be husband. It was all still a bit surreal, to think that a year ago he had asked Shiro to marry him. _Well—kinda,_ he acknowledged, his soft smile melting into a self-deprecating grin. He still hadn’t had the nerve to propose outright and so had slipped it into conversation, knowing full well that he had done so selfishly, to protect his own heart should the idea fall flat. To his relief, it hadn’t.

And now—a year later—they were getting married. 

Keith reached out and brushed some strands of silver hair from Shiro’s face. Shiro hummed in his sleep and rolled over toward him, following the retreating caress. Keith bent down and ghosted his lips over Shiro’s temple. “Love you,” he whispered before delicately extracting himself from the sheets.

He left the bedroom, shutting the door behind him, and moved through the suite. They still had a few hours before the brunch they had scheduled with the rest of the wedding party; he may as well let Shiro catch up on sleep.

Keith showered, dressed, and brewed a pot of coffee, grabbing his mobile from the counter as he crossed to the couch in the living area. He skimmed through the drunken texts from their friends that he had missed the previous night—making a mental note to bring them up when he saw them all later that morning—before he tapped on a recent message from Krolia.

The thread had started while he was in the shower and featured a snapshot of herself and Kosmo already outside under the desert sun. _“We are going for a run,”_ she told him. There was a second note that featured a picture of a lizard sunning itself on a rock with a question: _“What is this?”_

Keith chuckled and set his coffee cup down to key a response. _“It’s a Spiny Lizard. They’re not venomous.”_

A moment passed, then a reply. _“Good.”_ And then an image of Kosmo, purple tongue lolling out of his mouth as one of the lizards sat atop his blue head.

_“I see you two are making friends with the local fauna. They were always too fast for me to catch.”_

_“Good friends,”_ Krolia answered. She then asked, _“All is well?”_

_“Shiro’s still asleep but...we each had fun last night. Will have to survive the fun tonight too.”_

_“Your friends love you very much. We love you too. Enjoy your day. Dinner?”_

_“Dinner would be good. Enjoy your run. Stay hydrated.”_ Keith then hesitated only a moment before adding a heartfelt, _“I love you too.”_

*****

When Keith and Shiro finally arrived at brunch, the rest of their wedding party had already been settled in a private corner tucked away from stray passersby on the street and the low rumble of conversation elsewhere in the restaurant. It was only after they had taken their own seats that they realized it was a buffet.

“Figures,” Shiro mused, as his hand drifted toward his right shoulder. His prosthesis still sat discarded in their bedroom—he had been too out of sorts to willingly connect it before leaving the hotel.

“Don’t worry about it,” Keith assured as he stood. “What do you want?” Shiro’s plaintive gray eyes locked with his and after a moment of heady silence, Keith answered, “Say no more.”

“He didn’t say anything to begin with,” Lance contended as the rest of them got to their feet to head in the direction of food.

Allura hung back, her knowing eyes meeting Shiro’s. “Rough morning?” 

Shiro snorted. “I imagine as rough as the rest of them, save for your husband. He got off easy last night.”

“Keith can exact retribution on your behalf tonight then.” Her amusement faded into compassion then. “Will you be alright for our party tonight?”

“I’ll be fine by then,” Shiro assured her and took a long drink of water just as the rest of the group returned. Keith set a plate down before him, piled high with the most cholesterol- and carbohydrate-laden food Shiro assumed he could find among the buffet’s offerings before taking his seat next to Shiro with his own much smaller meal.

“That looks like a heart attack on a plate,” PIdge observed from her place across the table, eyeing Shiro’s breakfast with suspicion as he dug in. 

“It’s amazing,” Shio sighed around a mouthful. Swallowing, he turned to Keith to say softly, “Thank you.”

Keith smiled and leaned in to plant a chaste kiss to his forehead. “There’s fruit too, whenever you think you can handle the sugar.”

“I do appreciate the various hangover cures on display,” Lance said. Smirking, he pointed first at Shiro, “Greasy food. Classic.” Then to Hunk, “Electrolytes, multivitamins, and lots of water. Smart.” Onward to Matt and Pidge in turn. “‘As many pain killers my stomach can handle’ and ‘the hair of the dog that bit me.’”

“Whatever works,” Matt contended with a groan. To Shiro, he added, “I am glad I’m not the only one of us feeling the effects of last night.”

“Definitely not the only one,” Shiro acknowledged. 

“From zero to ten, how hungover _are_ you?”

“An eleven,” Shiro answered with a bright smile but could feel the strain. Beside him, he sensed Keith shift and an arm fell across the back of his chair. He turned to find his fiance watching him closely. Shiro offered him a reassuring smile and leaned back in his chair, close enough for Keith’s fingers to curl forward and caress his back. The gesture went unseen by their friends, but Shiro felt the tension in him fade at the touch all the same as conversation rose up around them in a low rumble.

*****

Brunch left them all sated and happy, hangovers largely cured and considerations turning toward the day ahead...and the evening beyond. Shiro and Keith had bid their friends farewell and—now well past midday—retreated to their suite for a long nap, drifting in and out of consciousness for what felt like a blessedly endless afternoon. Even when awake, they had been reluctant to part. The respite from the constant drumbeat of reunions with guests and final wedding preparations was a welcome one, and they burned through long hours of the day wrapped in each others arms. 

They had roused only for dinner with Krolia in the hotel’s restaurant. Throughout the evening, it had seemed to Shiro that something had been on the Galra’s mind but she had been reluctant to share her thoughts. Every time Shiro thought she would voice them, the conversation drifted naturally away.

It wasn’t until they were already back in their suite—Keith preparing for his evening out with the paladins, and Shiro readying for whatever Allura had planned—that Keith connected the dots for him. “Hey...I know we just saw her at dinner,” Keith began, “but Mom’s been meaning to ask you something.”

Shiro looked up to find Keith’s eyes thoughtful, but there was a tension to how he held himself. It was barely there, subtle, but there all the same. “What is it?”

Keith opened his mouth but then quickly snapped it shut again. After a beat, he said, “It’s not really my place. It’s for you and her to discuss.”

Shiro felt his stomach drop to the floor and he moved to close the distance between them in a few short strides. He wrapped his arms around Keith’s slim waist and ducked his head to keep eye contact with his partner. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Keith answered, though his tone didn’t sound particularly convincing. His eyes slid away as he worried his lower lip between his teeth before he met Shiro’s gaze once more. “She needs to talk to you. Alone. It’s important. But nothing bad.”

“‘Nothing bad,’” Shiro echoed. Keith nodded, confirming the assessment, and Shiro craned his neck forward to press a sweet kiss to Keith’s forehead. “Okay,” he acknowledged. “When does she want to see me?”

“Now would be good, before you head over to Allura’s. If you can. If you want to.”

Shiro reached a hand up to take Keith’s chin between his fingertips and searched his face. There was worry there, but love too. _Nothing bad_ , he told himself and ducked his head to press a gentle kiss to Keith’s lips before withdrawing. “I’ll head over now,” he said, “and I’ll see you when you get back later tonight.”

He dropped another kiss to Keith’s cheek and slipped past him toward the door; but then a hand at his wrist stopped him short and Shiro turned his eyes back to Keith. “You can say ‘no.’ If you want to,” Keith told him, his thumb sliding across his wrist. “Remember that, okay?” Shiro didn’t have anything to say in response to this cryptic message, and so only nodded before slipping from Keith’s grip and out the door.

The walk to Krolia’s room was a short one, but it felt like a small eternity and every step made Shiro’s heart race. He didn’t know what could have instilled such sober concern in Keith after what had been by all accounts a pleasant day. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good, he reasoned. _But it’s nothing bad_ , he reminded himself as he came to a stop at Krolia’s door. He knocked twice and only waited a few seconds before it swung open to reveal the tall Galra inside. “Keith said you wanted to talk to me?” Shiro asked.

There was a flash of concern in Krolia’s gold eyes, concern that looked eerily similar to what he had seen in Keith’s face not a minute prior, and Shiro suppressed the urge to reach out and take her hands in his own. Whatever this was all about, it had to do with him and it would be better if he waited for her to make the first move.

“Yes,” Krolia said, schooling her features. Stepping aside, she gestured to the room behind her. “Come in.” 

Shiro strode past her into the room and heard the door shut gently behind him. He then turned to face her and found her uncharacteristically quiet. “What was it you wanted to discuss?” he prompted.

Krolia took a deep breath, straightening. “I realized as we draw closer to the wedding that…we have never addressed how you would like me to refer to you.” 

It was true: they _hadn’t_ discussed it. Shiro’s gaze turned inward for a moment as he considered. He had assumed perhaps something would happen organically, when the time was right, but it didn’t mean he hadn’t thought of it. Multiple times, as it happened—throughout the entire year they had been planning the wedding—but he always stopped himself from bringing it up for fear of inadvertently overstepping some invisible cultural boundary. 

“I know you all have experience with universal translators, first with the Castle and now the Garrison,” Krolia said, tapping her temple, “but I have found in talking to Keith that they do not _capture_ everything accurately. Galra is a language of feeling and emotion. Every word carries with it connotations that extend beyond the word itself, an unspoken language _within_ a spoken language. I’ve found that is often not the case on Earth, at least not in the same way.

“There are...dozens of words for ‘offspring’ or ‘child’ in Galra. Each of them carries their own story that explain the connection between the speaker and the individual. Many Galra like myself are _lotam_ , born to Galra parents yes, but raised by the Imperial system to fill the ranks of the war machine from the moment we could walk. Others—like Acxa, Ezor, Zethrid, and so many millions more—are _lovak_ , children of the conquest, only half-Galra.

“I refer to Keith as my _molvar_ , something which is precious and rare among Galra my age. The word is more than ‘child’ or ‘son.’ It is our story. The word explicitly tells of my love for his father, my struggle carrying him to term, the pain of birthing him, the joy of seeing him taking his first breaths and thriving separate from me, the knowledge that one day he will leave me and I him—a loss that only he and I will fully understand. 

“Which brings me to you, to us,” Krolia continued. “To refer to you as a ‘son-in-law,’ or my son’s ‘partner’ or even an ‘adopted son’ is a statement of fact, not feeling. It is a position, a title, not a relationship. Not in Galra.”

She paused then, her gaze falling to the empty space between them. Thoughtful, nervous perhaps. Shiro swallowed past the lump that was forming in his throat and asked, “What would you want to call me?”

After a beat, Krolia raised her eyes to meet his once more, her gaze softening. _“Rokavii.”_

The unfamiliar word tumbled around in Shiro’s head like a fistful of marbles as his heart pounded in his chest. “What does it mean?”

“It refers to an individual...a child you did not carry and thus will never know the pain and joy of that connection. But one who has _become_ your child nonetheless. With time. With experience—both good and bad. It refers to an individual who you have taken into yourself, your heart, your family.”

As she spoke, Shiro could feel the telltale pricks of tears in his eyes. It became harder to breathe while a vise tightened around his heart and made his ribs ache.

“I would be honored if—”

“Yes,” Shiro said without hesitation. Krolia’s eyes studied him, hesitant, and so he repeated, “Yes, I—I’d like that a lot. I…” But then his words failed him, overcome with emotions he couldn’t name. Covering his mouth with his hand, he closed his eyes and tried to still the trembling that had taken hold. 

But then Krolia stepped forward and enfolded him into a tight embrace. Shiro wrapped his arms around her larger form and ducked his head into her shoulder as he felt one of her hands cradle the back of his head, clawed fingers combing through his short hair. _“Rokavii,”_ she murmured, her voice impossibly gentle as her cheek pressed to the crown of his head, “I’m here. I’m here…” 

Shiro took several gulping breaths as he regained control of his emotions, comforted and consoled by the Galra—Krolia— _mother_ —He exhaled slowly and pulled away to look up at her and, finding nothing but love in those gold eyes, asked, “What should I call you? In Galra?”

*****

“So where to, fearless leader?” Pidge asked as they headed deeper into the rebuilt city and away from their hotel. 

Keith shoved his hands into his pockets in a poor attempt to keep from fidgeting. He palmed the mobile, his thoughts still on Shiro and his mother. He swallowed past his worry about the conversation he was missing and focused on his friends. With a shrug, he answered, “I’m just along for the ride.”

Beside him, Matt chuckled. “Figured you’d say that. That’s why I came up with an itinerary. Your mission, Keith—should you choose to accept it—is to not drive me up the wall like your beau did for Lance last night.”

“Oh hey!” Lance responded, turning on his heels and glaring at his fellow best man. “That’s cheating!” To Keith, he added, “Be _exceptionally_ beligerient and ridiculous tonight, man. Pick as many fights as you want. I need to prove a point.”

Keith smirked, thinking back to the bet they had made during their reunion dinner a few days prior. “I can’t guarantee anything, since I wasn’t privy to Shiro’s night out.”

“And you won’t be,” Pidge answered, hooking an arm through Keith’s, “not until I get my fifteen minutes of fame during the rehearsal dinner and get to throw both you and Shiro under the bus in front of your mom.”

Keith grimaced at the mention of the next stage of their nuptials. “That alone is a deterrent.”

“No! No, no, no,” Lance objected again, shaking his finger at the sky. “Ignore her! She’s just trying to help her brother cheat.”

Keith did chuckle at this and pulled a hand from his pocket to sling his arm across Pidge’s narrow shoulders. “Alright, dutifully ignored. What’s first stop on the itinerary, Matt?”

“I’m so glad you asked…”

*****

Shiro was still reeling from the conversation with Krolia when he arrived at Allura’s door. He plastered a smile on his face as he knocked, but could feel the cracks in his calm facade grow as he stood in the hallway.

When Allura opened the door, her bright smile faded instantly. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” he assured, but the word trembled on his lips and he knew he sounded anything but convincing.

She saw straight through him. Taking his wrist in her hands she tugged him inside and quickly shut the door behind them. “What’s wrong?” she asked again. He shook his head and turned away, and so she tried a third time. “Shiro—”

“She said I can call her ‘ _viinam_ ,’ I can call her ‘mom.’” The words fell from his lips in a torrent and he snapped his mouth shut on the last, raising a hand to hide his face. It was so much, too much, and he was so happy and yet… He couldn’t bring himself to look at Allura; he was too shaken by the full weight of this terrifying, wonderful, beautiful knowledge.

But then he felt Allura’s hands on him and the gentle tug as she pulled him toward her. “Oh, Shiro…” she murmured. His name fell from her lips like a benediction, a balm of endless affection, that he fell willingly into her embrace. “Krolia loves you.”

“I know. I just—” 

“Come sit down,” Allura interjected as she withdrew, her hands falling to his wrists and pulling him deeper into the suite. 

They sat down on the couch and she immediately tugged him back into her arms. Tearful, Shiro put up no resistance. He felt her fingers comb through his short hair and sighed, defeat and frustration at his emotional state rising up to choke him. “I’m sorry,” he groaned. “This was supposed to be a _fun_ night in.”

“Don’t apologize. You and Keith are both dealing with a lot. He got emotional last night too. Seems only fair that you get your turn.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Stop,” Allura hissed, sounding bemused as she poked him in the temple. A moment of silence passed between them before she shared, “I know how you feel.” Her head tilted in toward his own while their hands threaded together between them. “I lost my family...and then found a new one. And then when I married Lance...and suddenly I had a very _big_ family. But I think it was his father that did me in.” Her voice grew watery as she remembered. “When he called me daughter...I think that's when it hit me. That a page had been turned and I wasn't alone.” She laughed. “Admittedly I haven't been ‘alone’ since you all found Coran and I in the Castle of Lions. But it feels different somehow.” 

Family lost, family gained. Orphans no more, truly. “What are the odds that the three of us—you, me, and Keith—found each other?”

“Slim.” There was laughter buried in Allura’s answer, simmering below the surface of the word. “We have a clever knack for beating statistical odds.”

This more than anything gave Shiro the strength to straighten, pulling out of her protective embrace. He scrubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand and then steeled himself to look at her, truly look on her. Allura was beautiful, misty-eyed but glowing, and a soft smile graced her lips. Not a hint of judgment in sight.

“Feeling better?” she asked.

“Yes. Thank you.”

“If there's anything I've learned from being pregnant, it’s that sometimes all you need is a good cry and then everything's a bit more manageable.”

Shiro laughed, feeling the last of the weight on his chest dissipate. “I can’t say I can speak from experience in that regard.”

“No. So you'll just have to trust me with this.” She took his left hand in her own again and gave it a squeeze. “Now, because this night is in fact a time to celebrate, allow me to direct your attention to the corner…”

Shiro turned to look over his shoulder and a bark of laughter escaped him with a jolt. He hadn’t seen it when he entered, too tied up in knots to notice. In the corner was set a full tea service with tiered serving trays and dainty cups and small plates, all painted with delicate, twirling vines and flowers. He laughed again, incredulous and struggling with the whiplash, grinning so hard his cheeks ached.

Allura’s arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind, her chin falling to his shoulder. “Do you like it?” 

“I love it,” he assured, hands coming over her own where they dangled across his chest.

“I thought you might. We are in fact the highest class bitches in this entire operation.”

Shiro could only laugh harder, feeling lightheaded and happy.

*****

“I think you race better while drunk,” Pidge said, hovering at Keith’s shoulder.

Keith swung the video game car through a hairpin turn, taking the lead from Lance who cursed next to him. “I’m not drunk,” he told Pidge.

“You drank two beers, did five shots in a row, and only hate half a plate of fries at the bar we were just at. There’s no way you’re sober.”

Keith smirked and twisted the wheel, blocking Lance’s attempt to overtake him from the side. The red paladin renewed his cursing. “I did that,” Keith acknowledged, “and I’m not drunk. I’ve never _been_ drunk. I’m beginning to think I can’t _get_ drunk.”

As he sped through the finish line—Lance begrudgingly ceding defeat—a thoughtful silence pervaded the space off to his right. And then Hunk suggested, “Perhaps it’s time to graduate to hurricanes.” [1]

*****

“I think we should make midnight tea parties a regular occurence,” Shiro said as he threw back the last of his cup’s contents. 

Allura chuckled around a mouthful of fluffy, miniature cake. Swallowing, she answered, “I agree. Perhaps we can add a block to your calendar the next time we deploy together.”

Shiro smiled. “I’d like that. In the interim, maybe we add a real-time debrief to our calendars. To help with your liaison duties during this next rotation.”

She smirked, a conspiratorial flash in her eyes. “Oh yes, absolutely. Consider it done.”

*****

Keith pulled his mobile from his pocket and squinted down at the message from Shiro while the commotion of the arcade roared in his ears. The image was of Shiro’s Altean hand deftly holding a small, intricately painted teacup with its fingertips, his metal pinky extended. The message that accompanied it read, _“Pinkies out like an HBIC.”_

Keith snorted, the sound devolving into deep-throated laughter as he keyed in the reply: _“Fitting. I expect nothing less.”_ Not a minute later, his mobile signaled a new message. This one featured both Shiro and Allura sporting mirrored aviators and a matching set of teacups which they sipped from dramatically. Keith snickered and answered, _“A couple of BAMFs. Carry on!”_

*****

“You’re _kidding,”_ Allura uttered, stunned. Shiro chuckled as he watched the recalibration happen behind her eyes. She shook her head, still aghast. “The way they all talked about you...I just assumed you were the Garrison’s ‘Golden Boy.’ Good at everything, the envy of everyone, the teachers’ pet...”

Shiro snorted. “Hardly. Matt was my roommate when we were cadets, and so I latched myself onto him and his friends when I first arrived. We were _terrors_. Pirate radio stations and sneaking into places we weren’t supposed to be and cliff-jumping joyrides—” [2]

 _“Cliff-jumping?”_ She laughed then. “That sounds a bit more in-character, I have to admit.”

“There was actually this...tradition of sorts, a right of passage for newly minted lieutenants. Once you graduated and made the rank, those who were dumb or crazy enough met off-base near the canyon and you raced hoverbikes through the gorge.”

“Oh, tell me!” Allura braced her elbows on the table and propped her chin up in her hands. 

Shiro leaned in close, setting the teacup safely aside. “Everyone had a two-man team—the pilot and the navigator—as well as a pit crew of sorts, which was really just your friends held in reserve in case you took a spill or stalled out and they’d come out to get you. Your navigator would hail them on the radios if you needed them or update them on your progress. 

“In any case, my boyfriend at the time _refused_ and so Matt was my second. One of the older lieutenants clipped our bike’s wing and sent us into a spin, so we had to pull off the track.”

“Oh no,” Allura groaned. “You lost?”

Shiro gave her a devilish grin. “Didn’t say that. I had Matt with me, so we patched her back together and hit the track again...and then went up the cliffs. You see, you had to stay the course...but they didn’t say you had to stay ground-level.” Allura’s hands covered her mouth, scandalized and delighted in equal measure. “Matt and I went over the cliff’s edge and nearly landed _on top of_ the lead bike. We didn’t, thankfully. But we _did_ steal the lead from them and set ourselves up for _years_ of infamy.”

Allura clapped her hands and laughed.

*****

“Alright boss,” Matt began, slinging an arm across Keith’s shoulders. “You’ve managed to get enough tickets for top shelf. Pick your poison.”

Keith’s eyes swung from one row of prizes to another, taking it all in. But there was only one thing he wanted. “That one,” he said, pointing at the stuffed hippo that was easily the size of his torso.

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

Matt chuckled as the attendant hooked the prize and brought it down from its lofty shelf. Nearby, Hunk pulled out the pouch and began to unzip it so that he could decompress it into its full duffel size. 

“No,” Keith told him, “he stays with me.” He took the hippo in his arms and hugged it to his chest, almost in defiance.

Hunk grinned. “Sure thing, Keith. Can I take a picture of you and your new addition?”

“To send to Shiro?”

“To send to Shiro.”

“...alright.”

Matt snickered beside them. “Be sure to tell him he’s been supplanted as Keith’s main squeeze.”

*****

Allura and Shiro pressed close as they studied the image Hunk had sent. “He’s adorable.”

Shiro sighed, smitted. “Yes.” Allura huffed a laugh and handed her mobile to Shiro so he could get a better look at his fiance. He cradled the device in his left hand, eyes raking over the picture of Keith clutching his stuffed hippo, gaze soft and smile shy. “God, I love him.”

“He’s very soft with you,” Allura observed, “though he’s gotten better about letting us see that side of him over the last few years.”

“He’s happy,” Shiro answered and with a final parting glance, passed the mobile back to Allura. “He doesn’t feel like he has to hide that part of himself away anymore. At least not with you all.”

“He’s not the only one, it seems.”

Shiro looked up to catch her knowing eyes on him and he felt the blush creep into his cheeks.

*****

Keith pulled Hunk’s arm up and over his head and across his shoulders before he pressed himself against his side with a contented sigh, which earned him a chuckle from the other man. “Better?” Hunk asked. Keith only nodded.

The battered picnic table before them was littered with the remnants of their late-night food binge, empty pitchers, empty glasses from the dive bar they were currently camped at. Vision swimming, he struggled to focus on Lance and Pidge who sat across the table and were talking excitedly about something, alcohol flushing their cheeks. Matt meanwhile nursed some chilled, alien drink that was garnished with fruit Keith didn’t recognize. He looked decidedly more sober than Keith himself felt but he paid it little mind, curled up as he was against Hunk’s side.

“Having fun?” The question rumbled through Hunk’s ribs and into Keith’s chest. It was a pleasant feeling.

“Yes,” Keith answered and let his head drop to Hunk’s shoulder. “I miss Shiro.”

Hunk gave his shoulder a squeeze. “You’ll see him again soon, don’t worry.”

“I love Shiro.”

“Yeah, we know.”

“He’s my favorite person,” Keith informed him, but then dropped his head back to look up at Hunk. “But you’re a close second.” Hunk beamed.

“You mean _I’m_ not your second favorite?” came the scandalized question from across the table.

Keith squinted at his Best Man. “No, you’re Lance.”

Pidge laughed. Lance sighed and rolled his eyes. Matt smirked and observed, “Well, he’s not wrong.”

Hunk chuckled again and gave Keith’s shoulder another squeeze. “I think the alcohol may have finally caught up with you.” Keith only hummed an affirmative. 

*****

Tea had been drunk and snacks devoured. The evening had been delightful but was running very late, and so Shiro suggested that perhaps he leave to allow Allura to get some rest.

“Ah! But before you go, I have a gift for you,” Allura informed him as she stood and moved across the suite’s common area. 

“You don’t want to wait for the wedding?”

She grinned at him as she withdrew a datapad that had been hidden within an end table by the couch. “Funny, Keith said the same thing. No. This is for you, specifically. From me, specifically. I gave Keith his gift last night—”

“The histories, he told me. He was thrilled with that—”

“And I hope you will be just as thrilled with _your_ gift,” Allura answered, returning to his side. She passed the datapad to him and he tapped the surface to reveal a note—

_To aid in creating new opportunities, memories, and joy._

_With Love, Allura_

Shiro felt old memories rise to the surface and take hold of him, trapping the breath in his lungs. He cast a wary glance at Allura who watched him with obvious anticipation as he tapped the screen again. The image on the datapad unfurled to reveal schematics and designs and an unmistakable image: an arm. A new arm. Sleek and compact and sculpted in a way that brought to mind medical sketches of muscles and sinew. He gasped at the sight. “Allura…”

“Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful. How…?”

“Technology has come a long way through the scientific exchanges across the Alliance,” she said. “I thought maybe...maybe you’d appreciate an upgrade.” She worried her lip between her teeth for a moment before pressing on, “I’ve been working with Pidge on the specifics. It should be ready for you when you and Keith get back from your honeymoon.”

Shiro set the datapad aside and pulled her into his arms in a fierce hug, which she gladly returned. “Thank you,” he murmured against her hair. “Thank you.”

*****

Eight hours, innumerable drinks, and a seemingly endless hallway later, they returned to the hotel...specifically to the door to Shiro and Keith’s suite. Matt stretched an arm out to ring the penthouse suite’s bell, struggling under the combined weight of a very drunk pair of paladins. Behind him, Pidge slid down to sit on the floor while Hunk leaned heavily against the wall beside her, presumably trying to get the Earth to stop spinning. The four of them took turns heatedly shushing each other between stifled laughter.

Finally realizing why they were waiting outside his door, Keith whined softly, “No we’re gonna wake him...he needs his sleep…” and tried to pull away, pawing futilely at the air. Matt tightened his grip on his waist.

Just then, the door opened to reveal a disheveled Takashi Shirogane, who suppressed a yawn with the back of his hand while he propped the door open with his foot. One-armed and bedraggled, he eyed them all with mild confusion.

It was this sight that propelled Keith from 0 to 100. “I’m gonna climb you like a tree,” he declared in no uncertain terms.

Shiro only managed a startled, “Oh my God—” before Keith launched himself at him, wrapping his limbs around Shiro’s sturdier form while the paladins laughed uproariously in the hall. Keith hauled himself up Shiro’s torso until he had his legs securely hooked around his waist. 

Recovering from his initial shock, Shiro’s hand fell to the bottom of Keith’s thigh, holding him steady as Keith nuzzled his neck. Matt watched Shiro flush pink before he turned his attention to Matt himself. “Thank you for bringing him home in one piece.”

Matt grinned as he hefted Lance’s limp arm across his shoulders. “One paladin safely deposited. Three more to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] For the uninitiated, [here’s some reading](https://spoonuniversity.com/lifestyle/what-is-a-hurricane-drink) on hurricanes.
> 
> [2] Keep an eye out for updates to the [Garrison Days](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/vld_garrison_days) collection!


	6. T-Minus 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding party is assembled and have successfully completed all necessary drills and simulations ahead of launch. They then take some time to decompress at the rehearsal dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Frosted Knight](https://twitter.com/frosted_knight/) did this [lovely piece](https://twitter.com/frosted_knight/status/1161101141737922560) of the rehearsal dinner and the gift.

Shiro drifted up into consciousness to kisses at his jaw while a hand ghosted over his stomach, slipping under the thin fabric of his t-shirt to trace lazy, invisible constellations into his skin. He breathed deep and exhaled with an appreciative groan as teeth nipped at his neck.

“It’s morning.”

“Indeed it is.” A stony silence followed Shiro’s acknowledgement, so he opened a single eye to find Keith watching him with great intensity. He knew that look well and bit down on his tongue to keep his face unreadable. 

Beside him Keith shifted under the sheets, creeping closer. “You waved me off last night.”

“You were  _ inebriated  _ last night,” Shiro reminded him and opened his eyes fully, turning to look at his partner. “How are you feeling?”

There was a flicker of a smile at the corner of Keith’s lips as he pressed himself up against Shiro’s hip, leaving little to the imagination. “Not inebriated,” he told him.

Shiro smirked. “So I see.” 

Keith hesitated only a second longer before leaning in to kiss him, deep and unhurried. Shiro sighed into the kiss and let his eyes drift shut once more, relishing the slow exploration, the drag of their lips, their tongues, the shared breath that moved between their lungs. It was going to be a good morning.

*****

They ordered in. 

Keith wondered if perhaps they weren’t both shoring up their energy in order to be suitably social for the forthcoming 36 hours. The thought amused him, and he was hardly one to complain: monopolizing each other’s attention would be a rare treat henceforth, at least until all of this was said and done.

Keith let his thoughts drift away as they grazed over the lunch spread that they had set up on the coffee table in the common area: fruit, cheese, charcuterie, homemade bread and jam...light fare ahead of the rehearsal dinner to come that night. He lounged on the couch, his robe slipping from a shoulder, as he stretched out a hand to comb his fingers through Shiro’s starlight hair. From his seat on the floor, Shiro sighed and leaned back against the couch, toward the caress. Keith’s hand fell to the nape of his neck, his thumb smoothing over surprisingly tense muscles. 

“You alright?” he asked as he pushed himself semi-upright to curl his arm over Shiro’s shoulder, holding him close. 

Shiro’s left hand came up to caress his forearm. “Yeah,” he answered. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

Shiro ducked his head to press a gentle kiss to Keith’s arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake. But then he extracted himself from Keith’s grasp to turn and face him, his left arm coming up to brace itself against the couch, the right sleeve of his robe hanging empty at his side. “Allura. Her gift. The new arm.” He worried his lip between his teeth before continuing, “Pidge is already working on the prototype at the lab. It’ll be done when we get back.”

“Good,” Keith said. Shiro’s gaze fell on the middle space between them, face unreadable. “Unless it’s not good…?”

He watched the muscle in Shiro’s jaw twitch as he clenched and unclenched his teeth, mulling his answer. At last, Shiro’s eyes dropped away as he murmured, “I messaged Pidge about it today. She’s not sure if they can do it with local anaesthesia. They’d...she thinks they’d have to put me under.”

Understanding dawned on Keith, souring his thoughts. “Ah.” Shiro fidgeted where he sat on the floor in response, but said nothing further. Keith sat up fully then, tucking his legs underneath him. “You don’t have to take it,” he reminded Shiro, hoping to head off the brewing melancholy.

Shiro shook his head. “You didn’t see her face. She was so excited…”

“But are  _ you _ excited?”

“I  _ was _ ,” Shiro assured. “I was, but then I started thinking about it. About the...specifics.”

Keith let the unspoken anxiety settle between them, allowed them to study and acknowledge it. But then he reached forward to take Shiro’s chin in his hands, raised those gray eyes to meet his own and saw all the hopes and fears of lifetimes upon lifetimes laid bare before him. His thumbs swept over Shiro’s cheeks, catching on the day’s stubble, as he listened to everything Shiro told him without saying a word. And then Keith ducked his head to capture his lips with his own in a tender kiss that promised safe harbor and understanding. He felt Shiro sigh into the kiss, tension unfurling and unfolding and evaporating.

When they parted, Keith pressed their foreheads together and murmured, “Don't think about it tonight. Or tomorrow night, even. There's plenty of time between now and when it’s ready to figure out what you want. Allura...she and Pidge wanted to do something nice, and that’s enough for now. We’ll cross the other bridge when we get to it, okay?”

He felt Shiro sigh again and nod. “Thank you.” A beat followed and then, “I love you.”

Keith smiled and pulled back to drop a chaste kiss to Shiro’s forehead. “Love you too.”

*****

The rehearsal was less a ‘rehearsal’ as Shiro understood them and more of a protocol blocking: enter here, walk here, stay until told otherwise… It all felt very straightforward for a ceremony he knew for a fact was weighted with tradition and symbolism. He idly wondered if the cut and dry approach was for his and Keith’s benefit.

But then he caught sight of Coran hovering in the corner, dabbing tears from his eyes with a brightly colored handkerchief and wondered if perhaps it was in fact for  _ others’  _ benefit. Shiro stifled his amusement by biting down on the inside of his cheek and turned his attention fully on his soon-to-be mother-in-law. 

“Any questions?” Krolia asked the assembled group after the third walk-through. When the group confirmed they felt sufficiently prepared, she nodded sagely. She then focused on Shiro and Keith and quietly asked, “How about you two? Are you feeling prepared?”

Shiro turned to his fiance and found Keith’s eyes bright with excitement. He squeezed his partner’s hand before answering Krolia. “It’s a lot, but I think we’re ready.” From the corner of his eye, he saw Keith nod in agreement. 

Krolia’s eyes danced between the two of them, a private smile gracing her lips. There was a glint in her eyes that Shiro didn’t often see and he realized with a start they were unshed tears. “Good,” she said before stepping aside and gesturing toward the door behind her. “I believe dinner is next. Lead on.”

*****

The private room had been set with a horseshoe shaped table with Keith, Shiro, and Krolia at the head while the rest of Team Voltron lined the wings. At the open center had been set two small tables, which Shiro had eyed with suspicion when he had arrived but paid little mind to them now as they sat down to dinner. 

“You drinking tonight?” 

Shiro looked up at the question and found Keith smirking at him as their waiter poured him a glass of some alien wine. “My stolen youth says ‘yes,’ but the fact that I’ve already crossed the thirty years mark and am definitely not bouncing back as quickly as I used to is silently judging me from the corner.” He waved off their waiter who acknowledged him with a nod and turned away to serve their other guests. Shiro leaned back in his chair and turned his body in toward Keith. “We’re really here, aren’t we?” he asked.

Keith nodded. “Yeah, we are.” They studied each other for a time, eyes and hearts open, left to their own thoughts. Shiro felt the telltale pricks at the back of his eyes and saw the shift in Keith too. “Don’t. I’ll cry,” Keith confessed, looking away to gather himself again. 

Shiro pressed a soft kiss to Keith’s temple. “So don’t cry,” he whispered. He withdrew as Keith turned to him again before leaning in once more to kiss him. A sweet kiss, one that reassured.

“Hey, aren’t we supposed to separate you guys for twenty-four hours before the wedding?” Pidge asked, startling the two of them out of their private universe.

The question was playful but it still made Shiro’s blood run cold. Off to the side he saw Lance and Matt lock eyes and grimace as if they’d both forgotten a critical Best Man duty. “No,” Keith said on behalf of them both, straight to the point and leaving little room for discussion.

There was, of course, discussion anyway. “Is this an Earth tradition?” Krolia asked the room at large.

Allura answered first. “Generally speaking, or so I’ve been told.”

“A tradition we’re  _ not  _ observing,” Keith hissed to his friends’ amusement.

Krolia then bypassed her son and turned to his fiance. “Would  _ you  _ like to?” she asked Shiro.

Keith turned to his partner and Shiro could see the trepidation in his face. Shiro answered simply, “No.” He then added, “I just got off a long deployment. I’m not about to volunteer additional time apart beyond what we’ve already arranged.”

Krolia smiled at him and nodded, accepting their decision as mutual and ending further discussion of the matter.

“Dodged a bullet there,” Matt muttered, elbowing Lance in the ribs.

“Tell me about it. I was about to call dibs on dealing with  _ my  _ ward this time, after dealing with yours for his bachelor party.”

“I see you learned your lesson,” Shiro smirked.

“I will gladly cede that title,” Keith added to the others’ great amusement.

Dinner passed in the low rumble of friendly conversation, peels of hearty laughter, stolen kisses with Keith when no one was looking, and bashful smirks when they got caught. Love and family. Shiro couldn’t have imagined a better evening, but all too soon it was over and plates were cleared.

As the wait staff retreated, Shiro caught Pidge exchange a whispered word with Hunk before standing and crossing to the tables in the center of their group. She cleared her throat and with that, Phase Two of their evening began. Shiro felt the butterflies take flight in his stomach.

“As a refresher for the group, I’m the Oath Breaker,” Pidge declared, a devilish glint in her eyes and arms spread to her side. “That means I’m supposed to dig up dirt on all’ya. Except for the fact that would also implicate  _ me  _ about...eh, 80-90 percent of the time nowadays, so with Krolia’s permission we’ll focus our attention on the last two evenings and use that to extrapolate the worst of it.”

Krolia smirked and nodded, acquiescing. Pidge—and the rest of Team Voltron—sighed with relief, having avoided the worst of their collective embarrassment of times long past. “We’ll start with Keith then,” Pidge continued. “Hunk, if you please…” 

Hunk stepped forward with the decompressed duffel bag from the night before. He unzipped it and overturned the contents onto the table to Pidge’s left. Out tumbled three bottle caps, several drink coasters, a dozen paper tickets from the arcade, two strips of pictures—the kind taken in those old photo booths—and the pièce de résistance: a stuffed hippo.

“That’s where he went!” Keith started, jumping to his feet and extending an arm expectantly, his hand clenching and unclenching in the empty air. Hunk chuckled and passed the plush animal over to him. Keith clutched it to his chest and sat back down, glancing in Shiro’s direction.

Shiro smiled warmly at him and muttered, “Cute,” before Pidge drew their combined attention once more.

“I’m pleased to report that all of this was gathered through socially acceptable means of exchange. But I want us to focus less on the ‘how’ and more on the ‘what’ in this case. I think we can safely deduce that despite his often prickly exterior, Keith is a softy. Momentos with friends, a collection of brewery names and labels to go find again and partake in with absent family, and something to snuggle up with when feeling lonely. Goes to show you can’t judge a book by its cover. 

“We did narrowly avoid  _ one _ altercation—only one—last night while out on the town. Now, some would assume it was because Keith was defending  _ your  _ honor,” Pidge said, pointing at Shiro, who only quirked an eyebrow in response, “or at the very least your good looks, but they would be wrong. In fact, Keith nearly came to blows because some dumbass got a look at a picture of Kosmo and told Keith that his dog wasn’t that cute.” Horrified gasps and a few stray condemnations of ‘Blasphemy!’ and ‘Outrageous!’ rippled through the group. “I know, right?” Pidge scoffed. “Kosmo is the best boy and Team Voltron  _ will  _ in fact engage in fisticuffs over his honor.”

“That’s fair,” Shiro said, grinning. Keith snorted beside him.

“In conclusion, Krolia, I submit that your son—Black Paladin, BoM leader, and overall badass—is in fact a sweetheart.” 

Krolia hummed, tapping her lips with her clawed finger. Shiro would have assumed she was deep in thought if he hadn’t caught the playful gleam in her eyes when she looked their way. “Sentiment,” she mused. “Certainly something to consider. But perhaps the match balances this out…?”

“On to Shiro then,” Pidge acknowledged, gesturing to the table to her right. “Hunk?” 

Again the Yellow Paladin stepped forward, hauling a duffel over to the table. The group gasped at the size of it, practically bursting at the seams as he began to unzip it. 

Shiro watched with mounting dread. “Oh no,” he gasped before he could clap a hand over his mouth to stifle the sound.

“What did you  _ get?”  _ Keith asked, astonished by the sheer size of the haul.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you  _ mean _ you ‘don’t know?’”

“I don’t know,” Shiro repeated, a deep flush creeping up his neck and into his cheeks.

They soon found out. Hunk upended the bag and out fell what could only be described as a menagerie of humanity. Shiro groaned as cacophony erupted.

“Is that a  _ street sign?” _

“I appreciate the fact that you stole some poor sucker’s bike lock, solely because it was Garrison colors.”

“What are the wires to?”

“Oh, the traffic camera he disconnected.”

_ “What?” _

“I believe the justification was—and I quote—‘Fuck The Man.’”

“I think you owe us all an explanation on the fan, Shiro. Especially regarding how well you wielded it at the drag show.”

“Is that a bottle of hot sauce?”

“At least Shiro stole  _ one thing  _ that’s useful. Pass that over here.”

“What’s in the matchbox?”

“Not matches.”

“So what  _ is  _ in it then?”

“Those would be cherry stems.”

“Wha—?”

“Yeah, he tied a bunch of ‘em in knots with his tongue and wanted to bring them back to impress you.”

Shiro buried his face in his hands, thoroughly mortified as the ruckus and ribbing continued around them. Beside him, Keith laughed and leaned in close to whisper against Shiro’s ear, “Suddenly my stealing your car and you busting me out of juvy makes far more sense. You’re just as bad.”

Shiro smirked at this and turned to face his partner, still hiding half his face with his hand and sighed. “Your mother is going to disown me and we’re not even married yet.” Keith snorted and bopped Shiro with his hippo’s plush nose. 

“Most of  _ this _ ,” Pidge said, loud enough to be heard over the noise, “I can assure you was  _ not  _ acquired legally in any sense of the word. I therefore submit, Krolia—with this exhibit of human absurdity—that Shiro is the kindest man you’ll meet...and an utter menace to polite society.”

Krolia coughed, trying to stifle her own laughter. She swiped at her eyes and failed to hide her grin as she answered, “Clear dichotomies in both of them. What’s on the surface and what lurks below. Tell me Pidge, what of  _ each other?” _

“I’m glad you asked,” Pidge answered and withdrew a datapad from her blazer pocket. “According to my calculations gathered over the last two nights—and corroborated with our Sooth-Sayers—Shiro and Keith each respectively talked to, thought about, or otherwise regaled us with their musings on their other half no less than 100 times over the course of sixteen total hours. That averages to about six times in an hour, which is patently absurd and rather fitting.” She dropped the datapad a shrugged. “Krolia, I think there’s nothing to do about it but to get them hitched. It should save us all from the constant pining, if nothing else.”

Krolia shook her head and sighed, deftly playing the part of the concerned clan elder. She cast a skeptical glance down the table at Keith and Shiro before turning back to Pidge. “Thank you Pidge for the...enlightening information. Clearly they care for one another,” she mused, “but their respective flaws make me wonder whether we have any assurance that this is a viable, sustainable match. Across the universe, or nothing at all. Allura, Hunk. Perhaps you can ensure we stay the course.”

Pidge retreated back to her seat, sporting a wide grin as Allura and Hunk got to their feet and walked to the head of the table. Reaching Keith and Shiro, they each took their respective charge in hand and tugged amidst scattered laughter from the group. The couple stumbled to their feet and dutifully followed their Sooth-Sayers to the front of the tables—Keith and Hunk to one side and Shiro and Allura to the other—as the rest of the wedding party shifted seats and became a panel before which they were presented.

As the group got situated, Allura turned from them to face Shiro and took his hands in hers. Her eyes locked with his and for a moment, they shared a silent conversation.  _ Everything will be alright _ , those eyes assured him. Shiro gave her a small smile and tightened his grip on her hands. Allura nodded, her message clearly received, and turned back to the group.

Hunk then stepped forward to address their wedding party and judges. “Since Pidge gave everyone a refresher, I’ll do the same. Allura and I have been selected as the party’s Sooth-Sayers. We’re here to make sure this match happens, and everything goes according to plan…metaphorically speaking. No deal, no dice, no wedding. Everyone understand?” 

A scattered response came from the assembled group and the butterflies in Shiro’s stomach fluttered again. He cast his eyes across the room to Keith, who gave him a reassuring smile...and a playful wink. Shiro released the breath he’d been holding.

Satisfied the group understood the stakes, Hunk nodded and retreated back to Keith’s side. He then stretched as if warming up for a fight and said, “Don’t worry, Keith. I got this. I am a diplomat after all,” before squaring up with Allura. “Allura, if I may…” he began, “allow me to begin, tactfully, with... _ what the ever-loving hell is going on with your suitor?” _ A shot across the bow, he gestured to the mountain of Shiro’s stolen goods. “Theft is hardly an honorable trait.”

“Unless it’s a theft of  _ hearts _ which I think is certain the case here,” Allura challenged without missing a beat. “Keith has stolen Shiro’s and all but run off with it. Our side demands what’s rightfully ours at this point.”

“You can’t walk in here and ‘demand.’”

“I most certainly will,” Allura scoffed. “Keith has been by Shiro’s side longer than anyone. His dedication and affection utterly transparent—”

“Oh I wouldn’t say that—”

“Just because  _ you all  _ didn’t see it, doesn’t mean it wasn’t obvious to anyone who  _ looked _ ,” Allura said, an air of judgment simmering below the words. “‘Subtlety’ might not be a Paladin trait, but the extent you all deluded yourselves is absurd.” 

From the sidelines, a challenge. “Hey now—” Allura quickly silenced Lance with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“Alright, I’ll give on that,” Hunk admitted. “But now things have gotten serious. Proposals have been made. Arrangements planned. What assurance do we have that Shiro’s the right guy for Keith?”

“Despite the—” Allura eyed Shiro’s mountain of stolen goods, “—petty theft and grand larceny.” She shot Shiro an exasperated look while the group snickered before turning back to Krolia—who was once more hiding a smile with her hand—and Hunk. “I can assure you that Shiro is an excellent match and anything less from your side would be a grave insult to  _ our  _ side. We’ll take nothing less than Keith.”

“Final offer. No take-backs,” Shiro added.

“Shut up,” Allura hissed. Krolia had started to shake with silent laughter.

“Keith is the sole heir to his line,” Hunk countered, “and before you say ‘So is Shiro,’ I’ll contend that there’s literally no one like Keith. Yet. The only Galra-Human hybrid to our knowledge, he’s one of a kind. I mean, we’re all one of a kind, sure. But literally one of a kind. We’re willing to consider the match if your side throws in…” Hunk paused to stroke his chin, deep in thought. “One...cow.”

“Hey!” Keith slapped Hunk on the arm, ignoring the heckling that sprung from their friends on the sidelines. “I’m worth more than  _ one  _ cow!”

“Alright.  _ Two  _ cows!”

At the front of the room, Pidge clutched her stomach and pitched forward until her head hit the table. Coran had started weeping with mirth, his mustache doing little to hide his wide grin. Meanwhile Lance and Matt clung to each other, snorting and laughing. 

Allura hummed, displeased. Rubbing her swollen abdomen in absent-minded circles, she turned to Shiro. “You don’t have a couple of Kalteneckers lying around, do you?” Shiro shook his head, trying desperately to keep a straight face. Allura hummed again and, turning back to Hunk, jabbed a thumb over her shoulder at Shiro. “No cows, but  _ this one  _ has enough beef to go around, I think.”

Uproar. Chaos. Shiro pitched forward, burying his burning face in Allura’s shoulder. Across the room, Keith clutched at Hunk’s sturdier frame as he threw his head back and laughed. 

As the din subsided, Hunk waved his hands before him. “No deal, no deal. I’m willing to accept that a cow—”

“Two cows!” Keith reminded him.

“—Yes, sorry.  _ Two  _ cows aren’t possible to come by this late in the game. But surely you have  _ something  _ you can give us, as a guarantee of your commitment.”

Keith piped up again. “I’ll gladly accept the hot sauce he stole as payment.”

Hunk hushed him, fighting a grin of his own. But when he turned back to Allura, he grew serious once more. “You spoke of Keith’s dedication. What of Shiro’s?”

Shiro’s eyes locked with Keith’s, finding the easy amusement fading as his gaze turned inward. Reflecting, remembering. His mouth went dry and his ribs trapped the air in his lungs.

Allura tapped her chin, considering, but was undeterred. “Keith has crossed universes, internal and otherwise, to find Shiro again and again. One does not simply  _ do  _ that. It takes great effort and love to accomplish such a task. That intensity requires a foundation upon which to build and grow. I’d therefore challenge us to look further back. Before any of us. Before the battles, before Voltron, before our little family was united...Shiro was there. As a friend, an anchor, and fuel to a nascent fire.

“Shiro offers love, yes,” Allura continued. “Love that crosses dimensions and lifetimes. But also belief. Because to  _ believe  _ in the greatness of someone, to understand them and know what lies beneath... _ that  _ is a more precious gift and powerful assurance than any material offering our side could provide. I would offer this belief. In Keith, in every part of him—the good, the bad, the beautiful, the horrible—as proof of Shiro’s affection and dedication and as a guarantee that our side offers a viable match.”

Across the room, Hunk’s eyes started to water. He swiped at them and took a shuddering breath, straightening. He turned to Krolia who was likewise fighting tears. “What do you say Krolia? Shall we take it?”

“What do you recommend, Sooth-Sayer?” she asked, voice rough with emotion, flipping the question back to him.

“I say we take the offer and marry ‘em.”

“So be it,” Krolia answered and stood, clawed hands braced on the table. “Our side accepts your offer, Allura. Keith will wed Shiro tomorrow.”

Cheers and applause from the group released like a shotgun blast. Shiro gasped, feeling lightheaded as Allura turned and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She gave him a peck on the cheek before shifting to his side and shoving him toward his beau. 

Keith met him halfway and threw his arms around him. Shiro took the momentum with them, lifting Keith’s feet off the ground and spinning them in a circle. They joined their family’s merriment: they were getting married! Married! They laughed as tears fell from their eyes and when Shiro set Keith back down safely on the ground, they kissed and it felt like fireworks had erupted in Shiro’s chest. 

“My sons…” 

They turned as Krolia approached and, casting her arms wide, she embraced them both. Shiro and Keith held her close, cheeks pressed to her shoulders. “Oh, my sons,” Krolia murmured again as she held them. “I love you both so much. You belong together. You belong to each other. You have for years. Tomorrow is just a formality.” She ducked her head and kissed them each in turn. She inhaled deeply against them and was still for a long time. But then she withdrew, a smile on her face as she slipped from their combined grasp. “We do have one more thing to take care of before we retire for the night, however. Please,” she said, gesturing back to the table where their wedding party was already taking their seats once more.

As they sat down, they found Coran already in place, standing at attention in front of the assembled group with a box wrapped in black ribbon cradled in his hands. Keith and Shiro exchanged curious glances but said nothing as Coran began to speak. “The final item on our agenda this evening breaks with tradition a bit. But Team Voltron is a family before anything else and this gift is from us all to you both.” With a flourish, he sat the box down before them.

Keith shot Shiro another look before he leaned forward and began to untie the ribbon while Coran continued, “Although this may be courtesy Pidge’s quick thinking, I believe it was you, Shiro, who actually requested it.” Shiro’s confusion and sudden trepidation had clearly shown on his face. “And that is the look of a man quickly determining whether the item before him will explode,” Coran remarked. He was quick to reassure, “It will not, I promise.”

“I was going to be very upset with all of you if you singed off my eyebrows the night before my wedding,” Keith informed them as he removed the last of the wrapping, opened the box, and peeked inside. “No way!” he exclaimed and, with a delighted gasp, jumped to his feet.

“What is it?” Shiro asked, but the question was overcome by events. Keith pulled a pair of black t-shirts from the depths of the box, tossing one to Shiro. He then promptly tugged the other shirt over his own head and it was then that Shiro caught sight of the inscription:  _ It’s a Black Paladins Thing. You wouldn’t understand. _ Memories from years past resurfaced in the forefront of Shiro’s mind of a late night in Cuba, the group of them tucked into the corner of a deserted reception hall drinking champagne, a bouquet of flowers in his lap and an arm around Keith’s shoulders. 

Keith flipped his braid over his shoulder and placed his hands on his hips. Chest out, he displayed the sentiment proudly. His eyes filled with love and happiness and a great deal of amusement. Shiro laughed.

*****

For the second day in a row, Shiro woke to kisses at his jaw. 

“Hey,” Keith whispered as Shiro blinked drowsily up at him. 

“Hey,” Shiro echoed as he stretched a hand up over his head and then ran his hand through his short, sleep-tousled hair. 

Keith smiled and leaned down, capturing Shiro’s lips with a gentle kiss. He then did it again and again and again...Shiro’s hand eventually came up to tangle in the dark hair that hung unbound about his shoulders as he sighed against Keith’s mouth. It was achingly enticing...but then Keith withdrew just out of range. He waited until Shiro’s gaze found his again before he murmured, “Let’s go get married.”


	7. Best Laid Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding has finally come and Shiro and Keith get well and truly married in human and Galra fashion. As the reception enters into full-swing, however, an unforeseen development causes the wedding party to adjust course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Notes:[Franki](https://twitter.com/effitsfranki/) did this [gorgeous piece](https://twitter.com/effitsfranki/status/1174112417464356864) of the hair-braiding ceremony. Send some love!**

Shiro studied his reflection in the mirror and exhaled slowly. His hair had been swept back from his face. The uniform dress whites were pristine, per regulation, and the medals on his chest glinted in the soft golden light that filtered in from the windows along the walls. Those too were per regulation, though his mood had darkened with their presentation. They were reminders of pain and death in times past: prisoner of war, combat action, the Battle for Earth, intergalactic coalition service, personal valor, wounded in action, even one for serving as a Voltron Paladin. _Through Hell to here,_ he mused and he could almost hear Keith in his head. _You survived it,_ Keith would say, _and that alone is a badge of honor. Wear it proudly._ He smirked at his reflection and took another steadying breath before turning away to face the rest of the assembled group.

Somehow he’d amassed both Matt and the rest of the paladins, all of them sporting the same uniform with a few medals of their own. Their conversation flowed easily enough, though whether it was a sign they were fully at-ease with today’s proceedings or simply putting up a facade for his benefit, Shiro didn’t know. 

It was then that the door at the other side of the room opened and Allura swept into the room, the gauzy layers of her dress swirling around her legs as she hastily shut the door behind her. “You all look so handsome,” she told the group as she strode to the center of the room.

Lance dropped his aviators down over his eyes and flashed a smarmy grin at his wife. “Me especially, right?”

“Of course Lance,” Allura said, humoring him with a grin of her own. She dropped a quick kiss to his forehead as she made her way to Shiro.

“Hey, you’re out of uniform,” Pidge teased as Allura passed, watching the gown sweep behind her, light as a feather.

“I had the choice of looking like a circus tent or a fairy princess. Clearly only one of those would do for Shiro and Keith’s wedding,” she answered without missing a beat. As she reached Shiro, she rested her hands on his shoulders and leaned up to kiss his cheek. She then withdrew, brushing away imaginary dust from his uniform. “Very handsome.” Shiro gave her a weak smile in response. Allura continued, “I just came from Keith’s room.”

“How is he?”

“Feeling much as you are, I imagine. Nervous. Excited. Very much in love.” Shiro’s smile grew stronger at that. It was helpful, knowing he wasn’t alone in his struggle to cope with this aimless agitation. 

This got Lance to his feet. “That’s our cue,” he said, setting the sunglasses aside and tapping Hunk’s leg. “If Allura survived, then it’s safe enough for Hunk and I to encroach on Krolia’s territory.” 

Hunk stood and waved to the group as the two of them strode to the door. “We’ll see you all on the other side.” 

And then there were four. Shiro took Allura’s hand in his and led them both to the bench that had been brought into the room from elsewhere in the library. She squeezed his hand as they sat down beside each other, both with audible groans—hers of physical discomfort, his of mounting anxiety. The Holt siblings laughed.

“How are you feeling? Really?” Allura asked as the two of them straightened once more. 

“Nervous.”

“Why?” Pidge asked. “It’s Keith,” she added for good measure, as if that would be enough to allay his fears.

“What are you nervous _about_?” Matt asked, with a bit more nuance.

“The Truths,” Shiro told them. His fingers itched to run through his hair and instead clutched Allura’s hand tighter. “They’re unscripted. And unprepared. They’re meant to be completely honest...with yourself, with your partner, with everyone present.” He offered them all a pained smile. “I’m never honest with _anybody_ —with the exception of Keith, usually—and I _loathe_ speeches. What am I supposed to say?”

“Anything you want,” Allura reminded him. “Whatever comes to mind when you think of him, of you together. That’s the point.”

“But what if I get there and I...I can’t think of anything. What if my head goes blank and I can’t form a single sentence to tell him how I feel. I know Krolia said this is all formality, but it _matters_. To me, if no one else. I should be able to do this, after all this time. This shouldn’t be an issue. But _this_ is what I’m most concerned about.”

Allura clutched his hand with both of hers and raised it up to drop a kiss to his knuckles. “It will be fine,” she soothed.

Shiro sighed. After a moment of quiet contemplation, he asked her, “Were you nervous like this before your wedding?”

Allura huffed a weak laugh and admitted, “Yes, of course. Though we were so busy leading _up to_ the event that I didn’t have much time to _be_ nervous. Until right before. Preparing to walk down the aisle...I was terrified. But then the doors opened and…” She faltered as she choked up at the memory. She sniffed and swiped at her eyes, brushing aside the tears that glistened at the corners. “And I saw you and him waiting for me at the other end of the hall and nothing else mattered.” She laughed again. “I don’t even really remember the ceremony —it was all a blur—but I was so happy. I was surrounded by people who loved me, who loved _us_ , and it will always be one of the happiest days of my life.”

There was a heavy pause as Shiro considered this. He then murmured, “Thank you.”

“Feel better?” Matt asked, sporting a knowing grin.

“Yes, much.”

Pidge smirked. “Means Allura’s doing her job.”

“Yes, good!” Allura agreed. “Please rate my Sooth-Sayer duties on a scale of one to five.”

“An eleven,” Shiro told her with a laugh.

*****

“Keith, you must sit still. I have one more braid to finish.”

Keith huffed and straightened, clenching his teeth to avoid fidgeting. Krolia’s clawed fingers combed through his dark hair, weaving intricate braids and silver embellishments into the strands. He’d long since finished his own braid which ran down the crown of his head, but had struggled to sit in one place long enough to allow his mother time to complete her own hair-braiding duties. 

“So Shiro will do the left side?” Hunk asked, where he sat on the bench with Keith. 

Keith just barely resisted the urge to nod and instead answered, “Yeah. Right side for family, middle for me, left side for your partner.” Hunk nodded, filing this information away. 

“You look kinda like a space viking,” Lance mused, stroking his chin as he studied Keith. “Or a metalhead, one of the two.”

Keith snorted. “Metal is more Shiro’s thing, but I’ll settle for the space viking.” 

“Done,” Krolia said, placing her hands on Keith’s shoulder. “Let me see.” 

As instructed, Keith turned to face her for inspection. He was dressed in the Blades’ ceremonial robes, the dark fabric adorned with silver embroidery that echoed the silver cuffs wound into his hair. Usually the robes made him feel stronger, safer. Today he just felt exposed.

Krolia’s eyes softened and she stepped forward to take him in her arms. Whispered against his temple, she offered words of comfort. “You look stunning. I love you so much. As does Shiro. All will be fine.” 

Keith wrapped his arms around her waist, returning the embrace and sighing against her. “Thanks Mom.” 

All too soon she withdrew. With a caress at his cheek, she kissed his forehead and moved toward the door. “I need to check with Coran on final preparations. We will signal when it’s time.” And then she was gone.

Keith sighed and loathed the sound it made, trembling on the exhale. He pressed his lips into a thin line and sat back down on the bench, wrapping his arms around his midsection. He could feel the telltale pricks behind his eyes and swallowed down the lump forming in his throat.

“How you doin’ buddy?” Hunk reached out a hand and touched his shoulder, a familiar weight offered in support.

“Like I keep waiting for something to go wrong,” Keith answered. “Everything is going so well. Everything’s going according to plan. When does that _ever_ happen with us?”

Hunk scooted closer and wrapped his arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. “Ah, don’t think like that. There are infinite possibilities in an infinite universe, and somehow we’re living in the one where you and Shiro get a happy ending. Embrace your good fortune and have fun today.”

“Yeah, it’s not every day we get to marry two Black Paladins,” Lance added from his place standing across from them.

“I just…” Keith looked away and was intensely aware of the patient silence from the other two men. “I just keep thinking...what if he realizes it’s not me that he wants? That I’m not the one who’s going to make him happy?” The words hurt to say. They felt too intimate.

But that was why Hunk was here as Sooth-Sayer, after all. Dowry-negotiator and psychologist all in one. “Shiro loves you,” he said. “Everyone who sees the two of you together knows it.”

“You didn’t.”

“Not at first, no,” Hunk conceded, “but I mean...now? Now that you two are open about it? I’ve never seen Shiro happier than when he’s with you.”

“I see him plenty on ATLAS and can confirm,” Lance offered. 

“And what’s more: you’re worth it, Keith. No matter what happens on the road ahead, you’re just as deserving of love as anyone, and Shiro wants to be the one to make you happy for the rest of your life. Because you make him happy too. You two are unstoppable together.”

Keith looked up at the two of them and felt relief flood him with warmth, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You mean all that?”

Hunk gave him a reassuring smile. “Absolutely.” 

Then there was a knock at the door and the three of them looked up as Coran’s head poked around the door frame. “It’s showtime!” he said, beaming.

“Ready?” Lance asked as Keith and Hunk got to their feet.

Keith’s eyes darted between the two of them and took a deep breath. His thoughts drifted to his absent partner and he smiled. “Let’s go.”

*****

“Now remember,” Matt said, taking hold of the door handle. “Keep your eyes on the prize.” Shiro exhaled heavily and nodded. Back ramrod straight, he was a hell of a sight in dress whites. Matt smiled and swung the door open.

Their half of the wedding party stepped into the room and filtered to either side of the door. Matt glanced across the small sea of guests and spied Lance and Hunk following suit. Then Keith and Shiro stepped into the room, flanked by their honor guards, and a hush fell over the guests who waited and watched. With confident steps they strode forward until they met in the center of the room before Krolia as their designated Elder and officiant. The wedding party then drifted to line the wall as witnesses to the affair, their escort duties complete.

But as Matt took his place, he caught the tremble in Shiro’s hand as he took Keith’s...and from his vantage point, saw the tears well in Keith’s eyes. Keith swiped at them, but it only made his distress more apparent as tears rolled down his cheeks.

Shiro wasted no time. He pulled Keith into his arms and held him flush against his chest. Keith buried his eyes in Shiro’s shoulder and clung to him as Shiro ducked his head in close. There was a soft murmur between them, but Matt couldn’t discern the words. 

The sight launched Matt’s heart into his throat and his own vision blurred as the gravity of the moment struck him fully. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep his lip from trembling. It was then that he registered the sniffling around him. 

Scrubbing at his eyes, he scanned the guests and found few dry eyes among them...including Lance he realized, his gaze landing on his fellow Best Man. 

Lance caught him looking and offered a half-hearted shrug before taking a deep breath and regaining his composure somewhat. Matt could have laughed. Figured that the Best Men would be a mess too. Why did they ever assume otherwise? 

With an encouraging nod to his partner in crime, Matt exhaled slowly...and turned his attention wholly to the couple in the center of the room. “Hey hey hey hey—!” he shouted.

“Break it up, break it up!” Lance piled on from his corner.

“You’re not even married yet!”

“I came for a show!”

“ _Dinner_ and a show!”

“Pull it together!”

The outburst broke the emotional tension throughout the room, including the couple who laughed and wiped away stray tears as they pulled apart.

From her place beside the grooms, Krolia eyed Matt and Lance with suspicion, but there was a glint in her eyes that Matt had come to recognize as amusement. “I don’t recall inviting hecklers,” she mused.

Incredulously, at the same time Keith and Shiro replied, “He’s with me.”

The room erupted in peels of renewed laughter as the absurdity overcame them. Krolia turned her eyes from Keith to Shiro and back again. “Oh no. I have two now.”

“Final sale,” Shiro said.

“No returns,” Keith added.

Krolia sighed but smiled. As laughter slowly subsided, she took their clasped hands in hers at last. “Ready?” she asked. Keith and Shiro nodded, confidence clearly restored. “Then let’s begin.”

*****

“We here have been fortunate today to have a universe at peace,” Krolia began. “A universe that is healing and finding its soul once more. Societies, cultures, histories which had been squandered and oppressed for generations are returning to the fore, and with them come the traditions of times past. Traditions which until now have been practiced in secret, hidden away to prevent heartbreak while continuing to define so much of who and what we are to ourselves, to each other, to the worlds around us.

“The Galra are no different. Even during the worst years of the Empire, love endured. Despite fear and oppression, loss and war. We are fortunate to love now, at peace, and bring tradition back into the light as so many others are. 

“Marriage is one such tradition. Like human weddings here on Earth, it is a family affair. We are a small clan,” Krolia admitted locking eyes with Keith. Then she turned her gaze to the assembled guests who surrounded them, “Though perhaps not so small anymore. I’m grateful to have you all here to share today with us. Not only as friends, but family. And as the Elder present, I ask that you will share with me the burden of supporting and sheltering these two, as family does.”

A dull wave of acknowledgement and acceptance rolled through the guests. Of course. Of course they would. Keith felt his throat tighten and saw the muscles in Shiro’s jaw twitch. How overwhelming it was to hear you were loved.

“Thank you,” Krolia told the group. “With your support, we turn to the most important part of Galra wedding tradition: the exchange of ‘Truths.’ Whereas I am told humans like to make ‘vows,’ we Galra are more absolute. Honesty—with ourselves, with each other, with those we love—is difficult and often painful. It requires a level of vulnerability and trust in sharing that vulnerability which speaks greater volumes than promises. For this reason, The Truths are sacred. I ask that we all treat them as such. The words are meant only for those gathered here today. Do you as our witnesses agree to these terms?” 

Again a wave of somber agreement met her question. Krolia nodded in approval. She turned her attention then to Shiro. “You may begin.”

Shiro took a deep breath and for a split second, terror clutched at Keith’s throat. But then Shiro opened his mouth and the words came. Tentative, almost shy in their delivery. As if he didn’t trust his own voice to capture all the things he thought and felt in that moment. Keith’s heart thudded in his chest as he listened.

“You have the uncanny ability to find me, to save me,” Shiro began. “It feels like every time I’m in crisis...if I just close my eyes, you’ll be there when I need you. That doesn’t happen in real life. It’s just in stories...or so I used to think. You’ve proven me wrong. Again and again you’ve been the exception to the rule. 

“I asked you once, after one such inexplicable rescue, how many times you’d do it. How many times you’d save me, you’d find me, you’d be there. I wanted to prepare myself for it to be the last time. It was only reasonable for it to be. After everything. It would have been unfair to expect anything more.” Shiro’s thumbs swept over the back of Keith’s hands, though whether it was to reassure him or himself, Keith didn’t know. “But you told me, ‘As many times as it takes.’ Without hesitation or reluctance. Just a statement of fact. As if you’d already made up your mind. As if somehow you _knew_ we would be here one day.

“I didn’t want to believe it then. I didn’t think I was worth it. I wasn’t worth that kind of dedication. I wasn’t worth _your_ dedication. I wasn’t good enough, could _never_ be enough, could never give you everything you deserved. I was going to hold you back. I was a clock counting down, a time bomb.”

Keith bit his lip to keep from arguing. This was Shiro’s time to be open, to be honest. Even if it hurt. He wouldn’t take that from him.

“I didn’t realize how right I was until it was too late. And even then...even then you were there when I needed you most. To find me. To save me. To save me from myself. Like you always did...like you always do.”

Tears welled in Shiro’s eyes as he offered Keith a tender smile, infinitely soft, and Keith felt his throat tighten at the sight. 

“I’m terrified that I’ll never be able to repay you for everything you’ve done for me...but I’d like to spend the rest of my life trying. You deserve _everything_ good in the universe, and I...I want to be the one that can give that to you. I want to support you, protect you, to cherish you...to love you. Until we’re nothing but cosmic dust. If you’ll let me. If you’ll have me.”

After a brief pause that followed, Krolia turned to Keith and asked, “Do you accept this Truth?” 

Keith nodded before he could find his voice again. “Yeah,” he said, tightening his grip on Shiro’s hands. “Yes, I do.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw his mother nod again, accepting and acknowledging his decision. “You may share your Truth now.”

Keith swallowed past the lump that was forming again in his throat and took a shuddering breath. Staring up into those storm gray eyes, he was undone and knew exactly what he would say. “For the longest time I was used to being invisible. People didn’t see me, not really, after Dad died. It hurt at first. But...like all things, you start to get used to it. You start to believe it, that invisible is all you’ve ever been and all you’ll ever be.

“But then _you_ showed up. And for the first time in a long time...someone saw me. _You_ saw me. I had forgotten what that felt like, what it meant for someone to see me. 

“It scared me at first. After all that time you came into my life and saw through _all_ of it and I didn’t know what to think of that. How to respond to that. But you offered me your hand and your kindness and I knew...I knew you were different. That you cared. That I could trust you.”

Shiro gave him a soft smile, encouraging as always despite the tremble in his lower lip. Keith smiled in return and pressed onward. “So I did. You gave me support that I hadn’t known in _years_ and you told me that you’d never give up on me. And I believed you. But you also told me I couldn’t give up on myself. And that was harder. 

“Until...it wasn’t. Because everything you gave me, I took and took and suddenly I wasn’t invisible anymore. Suddenly I could be something, _someone_ , that you’d be proud of. That _I’d_ be proud of. And I wanted to be. I wanted to be that person for you. For me. 

“But you always had this...fatalistic sense about you. Like you were...caught in a spin and watching the ground rush up at you. And I realized that all those things you saw in me, all the trust and confidence and _belief_ you put in me...you _doubted_ in yourself.”

The tears Shiro had been fighting since his own Truth spilled at last at this acknowledgement. They slipped down his cheeks, the tracks they left glinting his skin. A visible admission to everything Keith already knew.

It only steadied Keith’s resolve, and when he spoke again, his voice was stubborn and strong. “And I refused to let you. I refused to let you doubt for _a moment_ how much you were capable of. How much you meant. To everyone. How much you meant to _me_. 

“You _saved_ me because you saw me. So I would save you. Because I saw you too. I _still_ see you. Everything you carry, all your rough edges. They look a lot like mine. 

“You said you’d never give up on me. Let me give you the same. Let me give _you_ the support and trust and confidence that you’ve given me so that you’ll never doubt how much _I love you_.”

Keith watched Shiro’s eyes drop away as he pressed his lips into a thin line. He knew he was trying to regain some of his lost composure, and Keith let him take a few moments of shared silence after his Truth to do so. He tightened the grip he had on Shiro’s hands, offering some silent reassurance.

“Shiro, do you accept this Truth?” Krolia asked after a time.

Shiro swallowed and answered, “Yes, I do.” His voice was strong despite the tears that streaked his cheeks and Keith felt Shiro’s hands squeeze his own. Keith's heart swelled in his chest.

Krolia turned her attention to the assembled guests. “Does anyone here reject these Truths, or know them to be false?” Silence—amid quite a bit of sniffling—met her query. Satisfied, Krolia turned back to Keith and Shiro. “Seeing none, as Elder I also accept these Truths and it is thus my honor to bless this union. Congratulations.” Then she added with a knowing smile, “ _Now_ you can kiss him.”

Shiro lunged and captured Keith’s lips with his own. Keith laughed into the kiss and threw his arms around Shiro’s neck as cheers and applause erupted around the room. Married. They were married! He was Shiro’s and Shiro was his and Keith thought if he was to die happy, this would be the best way to go, wrapped in his husband’s— _husband’s!_ —embrace. “I love you,” he told Shiro when he pulled away from the kiss.

“I love you too,” Shiro told him as he pressed his lips to Keith’s temple. “Let’s go braid your hair.” Withdrawing, he wiped the tear tracks from his cheeks and took Keith’s hand in his. He led him through the crowd and onward through the double-doors that led to the adjoining reception hall, Krolia and their wedding party trailing at their heels.

As they entered the hall, Coran quickly snapped the doors shut behind them. _Crowd control_ , Keith mused, thankful for a moment of privacy. And then he looked up and felt his knees go weak as he gasped.

Overhead swirled the star charts they had provided the library. The blue glow filled the room with soft light. Galaxies spun across the known universe...and among them flitted little red and silver dots, charting courses together and apart...but always reunited. Again and again and again. 

So caught up with the display, Keith hardly registered Shiro returning to his side and holding him steady. Against his ear, his husband whispered, “To the end of the universe...”

“And back,” Keith answered. Their promise, their shared truth. 

They stood for a moment longer, watching the charts drift across the high ceiling, until at last Krolia said, “We shouldn’t keep them waiting too long…”

Re-energized, Keith turned to his mother. “Where do you want us?”

“On the dais,” she instructed, waving Team Voltron forward to the head table. Keith took a seat at his designated spot, his mother hovering just over his right shoulder while Shiro took his place to his left. 

Their wedding party meanwhile drew in close, clustered around them to shield Keith from view. “Stand over there and try to look intimidating,” Pidge instructed, pushing Matt, Lance, and Hunk to the side to form a wall between the newlyweds and the reception hall’s entrance. 

“Yeah, ‘intimidating’ is gonna be tough, what with Lance and Hunk _both_ still crying,” Matt mused, locking arms with the two paladins all the same just as Coran opened the large doors and allowed the first few guests into the hall. From what little Keith could see between the arms and shoulders of his friends, each guest cast curious eyes in their direction as they passed but left them otherwise alone to take their seats.

“I knew about the Truths but I wasn’t expecting _that!”_ Lance declared, voice edging towards shrill. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I did tell you!” Allura shot back from her place in front of Keith, shielding him from the rest of the room with the billowing fabric of her skirt. 

“You told me it was ‘like vows.’ That was _nothing_ like vows. That was like getting my heart ripped out and stomped on multiple times.”

“They _are_ like vows. _Galra_ vows. Besides, you cried during our wedding too.”

“That’s beside the point! Don’t deflect!”

Above him, Shiro chuckled as his fingers threaded through Keith’s dark hair that had hung loose on the left side. Keith worried his lower lip between his teeth to keep from looking up at him, still fighting disbelief that they were truly here together. After everything. _Married,_ he reminded himself and felt a flush creep up his neck. 

“What happens if you mess up?” Pidge asked off to the side, tone light and snarky. 

Keith resisted the urge to turn to look at her, but he knew she was recording the proceedings. He was half-tempted to answer, but Shiro beat him to it.

“I’m not going to mess up,” Shiro assured with quiet confidence. His fingers worked deftly through Keith’s hair and he felt the gentle pull as Shiro started to thread dark strands together, weaving a twisting, complex queue similar to those Krolia had braided that morning. The first of three. 

As Shiro worked, Keith felt the slide of silver cuffs and accoutrements join the braided strands and smiled to himself. Their friends might know what they meant, but any Galra at the reception would. They boasted to the world that Keith was taken, but more than that: he was Shiro’s soulmate, friend, partner, confidante… He was loved and adored and shielded by someone else, someone who would fight the universe if it came to it, and was simultaneously that for Shiro. Keith felt his cheeks darken at that knowledge: that the universe had for once been kind. At long last, it had been kind.

“Yeah, but what if you do?” Pidge pressed. “Game over?"

Beside him, Keith could feel his mother prickle and he almost laughed. Any concern was for naught. “I’m not going to mess up,” Shiro repeated, ending all further speculation on the matter as he deftly completed the first braid and started in on the second just below it. “Be helpful and give me that silver ring.”

Keith let his hands fidget in his lap, his fingers twisting over and around themselves as Shiro worked, and he just barely resisted the urge to look up at him. He closed his eyes and envisioned the look Shiro sported: the subtle scowl of concentration paired with a smile reserved for Keith alone. As Shiro set to work on the third and final braid, Keith felt his cheeks start to burn as warmth filled him.

All too soon, Shiro said, “Done,” and let his hands fall away. 

Blinking his eyes open, Keith stood and turned to Krolia, who took his face in her clawed hands. She inspected his braids with a keen eye and a tearful smile. “Beautiful,” she said, “beautiful.” She then pulled Keith and Shiro to her in a tight embrace, kissing each of them in turn. _“Molvar._ _Rokavii._ [1] My sons. I love you both _so_ much. Celebrate. Today is your day.” With a parting smile, she withdrew from the dais alongside the rest of their wedding party and left the head table to the two of them.

Shiro took Keith’s hand in his and with a wordless exchange, the two of them collapsed into their seats. Shiro slung his prosthesis across the back of Keith’s chair and Keith leaned back against his chest. Together they stared up at the star charts that ebbed and flowed across the ceiling. Across the universe...to here.

*****

The reception was going swimmingly, Lance had determined. Plates had been cleared and conversation flowed easily amongst clusters of guests—sometimes spanning multiple tables—as they parried good-natured jokes and stories from their exploits across the known universe. He glanced up at the head table, raised as it was on a dais and caught the newlyweds mooning over each other. He knew that look. He remembered being much the same a few years ago. He let his eyes drift to his wife and found Allura talking excitedly to Veronica and Acxa and didn’t bother fighting what he knew had to be as dopey a grin as the ones Shiro and Keith were sporting up at the front of the room.

His reverie was interrupted however when Matt Holt swung into view. “Ready?” 

Lance took a deep breath and nodded. He grabbed his glass and stood, following his fellow Best Man towards the front of the room. He then ducked off to the side as they approached while Matt took his position front and center before the head table.

From his vantage point on the sidelines, Lance watched as Matt raised a glass to the newlyweds and held a private toast with each of them before saying something that Lance didn’t catch. The words didn’t carry the distance, especially not under the din of the reception itself, but it must have been a stray joke judging by the easy laughter from both Keith and Shiro. Lance smiled and let his eyes wander the crowd as Matt turned to address the guests.

“Everyone, if I can have your attention,” he began and a hush fell. He gave them all a lopsided, appreciative grin. “Today has been an amalgamation of Galra and human traditions, but with our Elder’s blessing—” he raised his glass to Krolia, who did the same with a knowing smile, “—Lance and I as the couple’s ‘Honor Guards’ would like to share with you what we’ve found to be a _very_ human tradition.

“You see, at human weddings there are speeches by the Best Man or Maid of Honor—the Honor Guards—and we wanted to keep that tradition going. Usually they make you laugh. Or cry. But if we do this right there will be a bit of both.

“In that spirit, I’d like to talk to you about Keith. But first, a human idiom: you can’t judge a book by its cover. Meaning your expectations of something are usually flawed, and what you see or expect isn’t always what you get.

“I met Keith when he was a first year cadet at the Garrison. Even back then, his reputation preceded him. But what the Garrison had told me about Keith and what my friend Shiro told me about Keith didn’t align. At all. Even when I accounted for proximity bias.” He cast a glance over his shoulder at the couple who only grinned in return. “As far as the Garrison was concerned, Keith was a nightmare and always about fifty ticks from expulsion. Leadership was convinced he didn’t respect authority, didn’t mesh with the structured cadet life, didn’t take anything seriously. Shiro on the other hand thought this kid was bound for greatness.” Matt paused. “In the end both were right I suppose but that’s skipping ahead several years.” Laughter rippled through the audience.

“In any case,” Matt continued, “I had had a chance on one or two occassions to see Keith in action on Garrison grounds myself and it only confused me more about what was up with this kid. So what does one do when faced with such a conundrum? Well like any self-respecting Holt, I did my research—” The admission was met with snickers from those who knew the Holts well. “—in order to draw my own conclusions. 

“This meant I jumped at the opportunity to serve as their third wheel on a rare venture into Plaht City. _Their_ mission was to find the best taco place in town. _My_ mission was to figure out this enigma that was Keith Kogane.

“I quickly discovered Keith already knew where we were heading and Shiro and I were just along for the ride. But as we made our way deeper into the city, it became clear that we had gone _so far_ off the beaten path that if anything were to happen to us on this quest, no one would find our bodies.

“As Keith got ahead of us and just out of earshot, I shared this concern with Shiro and asked him, only half-joking, whether this kid was going to get us mugged. Shiro—ever trusting—answered, ‘No he’s not going to get us mugged.’

“And then up ahead we watched as Keith took a hard left down a dark alley. And Shiro amended his earlier assessment with, ‘Probably. He’s _probably_ not going to get us mugged.’”

More laughter echoed through the reception hall, including from the newlyweds on the dais. Shiro hid his face with his hand, embarrassed, while Keith only smirked and nodded. Even from where he stood, Lance could see Keith admit, ‘That’s fair,’ and it made him chuckle.

Matt continued, “We followed him with a bit more apprehension and found him standing before what was possibly the smallest taco place I had ever seen and have ever seen since. But if that wasn’t surprising enough, Keith was greeted by the older woman managing the griddle with unabashed delight. Cheek kisses and hugs. She called him her alley cat. 

“We sat down to one of the best meals I have ever had in my life and I spent the whole time watching this kid who the Garrison brass would have been _relieved_ to get rid of come alive in this...quiet, bashful sort of way that spoke to a level of vulnerability I’d never seen before.

“I realized then that it wasn’t that the Garrison didn’t see it or couldn’t see it; it was that Keith _didn’t want_ them to see it. They weren’t _worthy_ of that trust; they hadn’t earned it. But Shiro...Shiro was worthy. And I—as the humble third wheel, as I said—didn’t rank sufficiently to jeopardize that. Because Shiro was there, and he was enough. 

“And since relationships—good ones, real ones—start with trust and honesty and that willingness to be vulnerable,” Matt continued, the tone shifting and growing more serious, “I’d contend the wedding we’re all celebrating today was set into motion a long time ago.”

From elsewhere in the hall, an unmistakable voice piped up. “This is true! I calculated it while you were talking!”

The rising tide of emotion spilled over in the hall and laughter and applause met the deduction. Matt shook his head and pointed towards the corner. “And Slav concurs, so I was right!” 

As laughter settled comfortably amongst them, Matt turned to Keith who straightened in his chair next to Shiro. “Keith, we know you chose Shiro to walk beside you. We know he’s had pride of place for you for a long time. But as Krolia said earlier...we’re family.” As Matt spoke, Lance watched a flush creep back into Keith’s cheeks as his eyes watered. Matt had clearly struck a chord. “We’re family,” he repeated. “Which means that no matter how much of a badass you are or yet become...I hope you’ll allow yourself to be vulnerable, to be open, to trust us with the parts of yourself which you hold close. We’re here for you as you’ve always been for us.” He raised his glass towards the couple on the dais. “To Keith!” 

The toast was met soundly throughout the room with a roar and concluded with applause as Matt stepped up to the head table to embrace Keith who clung tightly to his shoulders. Another whispered exchange followed and Keith nodded with a weak smile, scrubbing at his eyes as Matt finally withdrew.

Lance reached out his hand as his partner in crime approached. “Tap me in.” Matt grinned and slapped the offered hand, passing the baton. Lance thus stepped forward and gave the men at the dais a Cheshire cat grin. In the hush that followed, he heard Shiro mutter, ‘Oh no…’

“Just as it was Matt’s privilege to talk about Keith, it’s _my_ privilege to talk about Shiro,” Lance began, turning his eyes to the guests. “I could talk for _hours_ about Shiro. Specifically on how much of a nerd he is. From using ‘sharks with laser beams’ as a briefing aid, to obsessive fascination with early human spaceflight, to giving his favorite constellations nicknames, [2] to his _horrendous_ attempts at sound effects—”

“They _are_ horrendous,” Keith agreed from behind, amid great amusement from the crowd.

“Yeah, see? His husband even agrees.” Lance grinned and continued. “We’re going to take all of that and set it aside for now and just accept it as fact. Accept that Shiro is a nerd and thus we can move on with our day.

“Matt shared some insights into human culture and I’d like to do the same, specifically on superheroes. Now, heroes I think we all can agree inspire us to be better, to do the right thing even when it’s difficult or terrifying. They lead us and sacrifice for us, among so many other qualities. But _superheroes_...for us humans, superheroes are larger than life. They are untouchable and incredible and infallible. 

“When I was younger, Shiro was _my_ superhero. He was everything I wanted to grow up to be, everything that inspired me. And I feel secure enough here today to admit to all of you that it took me an absurd length of time to realign expectations with reality.

“Shiro is _still_ a superhero. For myself and countless others. But whereas I had thought Shiro’s superpower came from his being the best pilot the Earth’s ever seen...second to one—” he turned to give Keith a salute and a wink, “—or that he excelled in academics, is a Black Paladin, does whatever it is he can do with the ATLAS, or any other impressive and impossible things...that’s not really Shiro’s power.

“No, Shiro’s superpower is that he sees greatness in everyone he meets...and then helps them see the greatness in themselves, and he does this by being _kind_. Everyone in this room has been touched by that kindness. We’ve grown, we’ve conquered our fears, we’ve changed. We’ve become the best versions of ourselves. 

“But that’s the tricky thing about kindness. It grows. It spreads. It starts with one and then compounds. The people here today have carried all of that goodness forward and outward and onward. Because someone was kind and showed us we could. Because Shiro showed us we could.”

Lance turned then to face his friend, his captain, his mentor and found him flushed and glassy-eyed. _Bingo._ He offered an empathic smile as he addressed him. “In hindsight...I know now that you did all of these things despite assuming you’d never see the fruits of your labor. You trusted us to carry it forward after you, beyond you. 

“Well I’m here today to tell you that you are _still_ my superhero, albeit in a new light, and that means you’ll never have to go it alone. And on behalf of everyone here: whatever, whenever, wherever you need us...we’re here for you. Because that’s what family does.” He raised his glass and said, “To Shiro!” 

As with Matt’s speech, echoed toasts and applause met the conclusion of Lance’s remarks and he took the opportunity to close the distance with the head table. Shiro stood as he approached and pulled him into a tight hug. “How’d I do boss?” Lance asked.

“Thank you,” Shiro murmured. “Thank you.”

Lance smiled and hugged him back.

*****

The reception had been in full swing for some time now, and Keith could feel the need to _get away_ creeping up his spine. And he knew if _he_ felt it, Shiro was _dying_ for it. He glanced sidelong at his husband, studied the tense set of his jaw, the corners of his eyes, the way he swallowed, how straight his back stood. _Oh yeah,_ Keith mused, _time to duck out._

Keith took Shiro’s hand in his and tugged gently to get his attention. Shiro turned with questioning eyes and ducked his head in close enough for Keith to whisper secrets in his ear. It was an opportunity he readily accepted. “I want to get out of here for a bit,” Keith said. “Away from the crowd. Come with me?” 

The relief swept through Shiro’s posture like a wave. Wordlessly, he stood and offered Keith his hand. Keith smirked and took it, then pressed in closer to curl his arm through Shiro’s, holding him close at the elbow. A few observant guests tossed teasing comments their way as they passed by, but neither paid them any mind.

They fled the dull roar of the hall through a side door and strode with measured steps down an access hall, heading towards the rest of the library. The further from the reception they went, the easier it felt to breathe. As if they could set aside all the enormity of the day’s events and instead focus on _now:_ just them and their new beginning.

“Thanks,” Shiro murmured as they turned a corner behind rows of bookcases and headed towards the study halls they had converted into dressing rooms earlier in the day. “I wasn’t sure if I could make a tactful exit.”

Keith smiled to himself and ran a hand up and down Shiro’s bicep before dropping his head against his shoulder as they walked. “I figured. You’re too damn dutiful for your own good. It’s _our_ party, remember. We can do what we want.”

“Within reason,” Shiro countered as they rounded another corner. He paused and dropped back against the wall with a sigh. “There’s still... _expectations_. I’m not supposed to want to ditch my own after party.”

The words sounded bitter. Keith offered him a commiserate smile as he leaned in close. “It won’t be for much longer. I promise. An hour. _Maybe_ two if we start having a lot of fun.”

Shiro bit his lip as he lowered his eyes. “You don’t think they noticed, do you?”

“Nah,” Keith reassured, running his hands down Shiro’s uniformed chest. “You’ve got ‘em all fooled. Everyone in there’s thinking, ‘Oh, how dashing and debonair the ATLAS Captain is!’” He turned away, Shiro pushing away from the wall to follow at his heels. “I’m the only one who’s like—” he started tapping his wrist insistently, “‘— _Wrap. It. Up!_ I’ve got places to go and _people to do!’”_

The teasing had the desired effect. Shiro laughed and flung his arms around Keith’s waist, holding him close as they stumbled together down the hall until they reached the room they had used for the ceremony. They were still laughing when they crossed the threshold. 

But then they drew up short, their mirth stifled in their throats when they realized they weren’t alone. On a chair in the circular room sat a solitary figure, their shoulders shaking as they hunched over the gauzy fabric draped about their frame.

Keith knew that dress. “Allura?” he asked, stepping forward. Allura looked up at the sound of her name and they saw the fear in her eyes. As one, they rushed to her. Shiro knelt by her side, his hand clasping her own as Keith touched her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s too early,” she answered before clasping her free hand over her mouth as tears fell from her eyes. Her other hand tightened around Shiro’s.

It was then that Keith registered the dampness of her dress, the trail of water on the floor— “The baby,” he uttered, eyes going wide. “The baby’s coming.”

Allura shuddered and turned her eyes upward on him, nodding. Shiro moved to stand and she clutched desperately at his arm. “No please—”

“I have to get Lance,” Shiro soothed, dropping a kiss to her head. “Keith will stay right here with you. He’s not going anywhere.” Shiro cast his eyes over Allura’s head and Keith nodded in acknowledgement. “You’re going to be okay,” Shiro continued, gently extracting himself from Allura’s grasp, “but I have to go get your husband.”

“And Coran?”

“And Coran.” 

Allura bit her lip as Shiro moved away toward the reception hall. “And Krolia!”

“Copy that,” Shiro said and slipped from view. 

Alone together, Keith knelt beside Allura and took her hands in his as he had Shiro do. Her breath was labored, pained, and her lips trembled. Swallowing down his own fears, Keith pressed their foreheads together and offered whatever comforting words came to his lips.

*****

Shiro moved through the reception as a man on a mission. And that mission required him to cast enthusiastic smiles and waves to the guests that hailed him as he passed, closing in on his target. 

Lance was seated with Hunk and Pidge—convenient—when Shiro stopped just behind him. He looked up with a wide grin and stood quickly, taking Shiro’s hand in his. “Shiro! Congrats again on the nuptials. Where’s your second half?” 

Shiro pulled him in close and said, “I need you to go to the back.” 

Lance gave him a look of consternation a moment before the warning bells must have gone off in his head. He turned his eyes on the reception and found his wife still absent. When he turned back to Shiro, his blue eyes were wide with fear. 

“Walk,” Shiro instructed, hoping to avoid drawing the attention of the other guests. “But go quickly.” Lance nodded and turned, walking away. Shiro was fairly certain it was taking all his energy not to sprint the remaining distance out of the reception hall.

“Should we…?"

Shiro turned to Pidge and Hunk who watched him with wary eyes. “In a minute.” He then turned his attention to locating Coran and sending him on his way with much the same instructions. As he watched the Altean slip through the tables and out the door, Shiro at last made his way to Krolia.

His mother-in-law was seated with Kolivan, chatting amicably. Or rather, Krolia was chatting amicably while Kolivan struggled to retain his stoic composure which was slipping under Krolia’s attention. If the circumstances were different, Shiro would have been amused. As it stood, he had to insert himself and avert their flirting.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry,” Shiro said as he stepped up to the table and ducked his head in toward Krolia. “Can you join me in the back, please?” he asked.

Concern flashed in Krolia’s eyes and glancing over Shiro’s shoulder she registered her absent son. “What’s wrong?”

“Please?” Shiro reiterated but said nothing more. 

Krolia set her shoulders and stood, following at his heels as they wove through the merrimaking of the reception around them. Ducking out of the room, they found Allura where Shiro had left her. Keith had yielded his post to Lance, who held Allura’s hand. Coran fussed, panicked, as Keith tried to keep the cluster calm.

Krolia looked back at Shiro for only a moment before turning back and taking several long strides forward. She knelt before Allura. “How many months?” she asked, mission-focused.

“It’s too early,” Allura answered, distraught.

“Allura, focus. How many months?” Krolia asked again, taking one of her hands in her own with surprising tenderness.

Allura took a shuddering breath, gathering her resolve. “Eight. Eight and a half.”

Krolia seemed to relax, the tension she had carried slipping away somewhat as she gave Allura a reassuring smile. “Too early for an _Altean_ baby perhaps, but you’re about on-time for a human one.” She took Allura’s face in her clawed hands and gently scrubbed the tear tracks away with her thumbs. “You and the baby are going to be fine. We are going to make sure of that, okay? Now, deep breath and exhale. Slowly.”

At this moment, Pidge, Matt, and Hunk made their appearance, clearly having grown tired of waiting on the sidelines. “What’s everyone—oh.” Pidge was brought up short several feet away, uncertain; her brother collided into her back, caught by surprise at her sudden stop.

Hunk barreled forward, joining the group at Keith’s side. “The baby! The baby’s coming?” he asked, eyes wide and hands clasped together against his chest.

“Indeed,” Krolia answered, eyes still on Allura. Once she was certain the Altean was breathing normally once more, she stood and turned to her sons. “We need to get her to a doctor. The baby won’t be long now.”

“Plaht General is where we had planned to go,” Lance piped up from Allura’s side. “They have human and off-world doctors on-hand.” 

“Alright,” Shiro began, turning to the assembled group. “I’ll take Allura, Lance, and Coran to the hospital. The rest can follow.” He turned to his husband to confirm.

Keith nodded and pointed at Shiro. “Wave one—” and then himself, “—Wave Two. Pidge, Hunk, and I will come once we get everyone else here situated. Do you have your keys?” Shiro flipped a hatch on his prosthesis open and out tumbled the fob to their ‘getaway car’ as Matt had dubbed it. Keith smirked. “Okay everyone. Let’s do this.”

Lance helped Allura stand and take some tentative steps toward the nearest exit before Shiro stopped them. “Let me?” he offered to Allura, who nodded through another shaky exhale. With care, Shiro scooped her into his arms, the prosthesis against her back as his left arm hooked under her knees. Lance and Coran took position ahead of him and guided them away from the reception, opening doors as they came to them.

Allura wrapped her arms around his neck as they moved through the library corridors toward the back parking lot reserved for the wedding party. Lips ghosting over his ear, she whispered, “I’m so sorry, Shiro. This was supposed to be _your_ day, yours and Keith’s—”

Shiro snorted. “Stop.” An order, softened with a kiss to her forehead. “Things were going too-according to plan as it stood anyway. Was getting to be a bit suspicious.” Allura’s laugh in reply was sweet, like bells, and Shiro smiled.

*****

Keith sent Hunk ahead to get their second car started. He hovered only long enough to see him hustle down the same corridor that Shiro and the others had disappeared moments earlier before turning on his heel and returning to the reception, Pidge close at his side. As he stepped back up onto the dais, Keith strode past the table that had been set aside for him and Shiro and stood before the reception. 

Their guests were too preoccupied with their own meals and conversation to notice him and so he cast a glance back at Pidge who loitered on the sidelines. She pulled out her datapad and gave Keith a thumb’s up. _Recording_ , he realized and rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to their guests. Puckering his lips, he whistled. 

With the room’s acoustics, the sound carried high and far, startling even Keith himself as dozens of eyes were suddenly upon him. An expectant silence fell heavily throughout the reception and he felt his words stuck in his throat.

But only for a moment. Nervous, he cleared his throat and said, “Wow, that...worked better than I thought. Um. Please, everyone continue to enjoy yourselves. Stay as long as you want. Krolia and Matt will continue to oversee the reception—” he gestured to both of them where they appeared near the hall’s main entrance, but then jabbed his thumb over his shoulder, “—but the wedding party has to jet...to the closest maternity ward. So...wish us and the mom-to-be good luck.”

As he bolted from the dais and past Pidge, loud cheers rang in his ears.

*****

Veronica watched Ezor chatter something the universal translator didn’t make sense of before it finally caught up with her excitement. “—can’t believe it! It’s unheard of!” before nearly tossing herself into Zethrid’s lap with a cry. The larger alien chuckled and gave her partner a soothing pat on the back.

With some trepidation, Veronica turned to Acxa. The half-Galra had bitten her lip, her eyes still locked on the dais which was now devoid of _both_ Shiro and Keith. It looked as if she was fighting a grin...or tears. It was hard to tell. “I feel like I’ve missed something,” Veronica said, drawing her partner’s attention back to her.

“Allura is having a baby.”

“Yeah, that’s why everyone cheered. But…” she inclined her head at the other two at their table.

Acxa did chuckle at that. “An old Galra tradition, or superstition perhaps. It’s very good luck to have an expecting couple in your wedding party. A stars-aligning kind of luck. For an expecting couple to go into labor during the event...that’s unheard of.”

Veronica almost didn’t want to ask the next question. “Good or bad luck?”

Acxa considered this. “I don’t know. Time will tell, I suppose.”

*****

Shiro looked up just as Wave Two entered the hospital’s waiting area. Keith made straight for him with his typical confident stride and it made him smile to see it. Pidge and Hunk were hot on his heels.

“How is she?” Keith asked as they reached Shiro’s side. “Where…?”

Shiro inclined his head back toward the double doors that separated the general waiting area from the rest of the maternity ward. “Allura’s in delivery with Lance and Coran.” 

“So we haven’t missed it?” Hunk asked. He was nearly bursting with excitement, judging by the way he shifted his weight from one foot then the other. 

“Not yet,” Shiro answered with a smile. He knew how he felt: nervous energy without an outlet. He reached out and pulled Keith into his arms, hoping his partner would offer some stability. 

Keith came willingly. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Shiro answered and leaned in for a quick kiss before resting his cheek against Keith’s temple, careful of the braids that adorned his head. He sighed in a weak attempt to rid himself of the fluttering in his stomach.

A nurse passing through the waiting area caught sight of their little group and then glanced at their uniforms. “A happy occasion, I hope?” she asked.

“A wedding,” Pidge answered promptly, “ _and_ a baby!” The nurse laughed as she strode past them to start her rounds. 

They slipped into silence then as they waited for news. The minutes ticked by, marked by the floor tiles they paced with growing impatience. Suddenly, Keith turned to Shiro and took his hand. “I want to see the braids,” he said as he tugged his husband towards a nearby bathroom.

Startled, Shiro followed him without objection. Keith pulled him inside and shut the door, crossing to the mirror to study the left side of his head. Shiro took a moment to flip the lever for the lock and took a measured step forward, coming up behind Keith.

“What do they mean?” Keith asked, eyes on his reflection.

“You know what they mean,” Shiro answered. With Krolia’s help, Keith and he had both studied the various queues and twists and their interpretations for hours upon hours over the course of several months. There was no doubt in Shiro’s mind that Keith knew exactly what he had woven into his hair.

Keith worried his lower lip between his teeth. “I want you to tell me,” he said, voice quiet and somber. 

Shiro gave his husband a tender smile as he closed the distance between them. He placed the hand of his prosthesis on Keith’s hip and ducked forward to press a gentle kiss to the side of his neck. Straightening, he then ran a finger over the delicate braids as he spoke. “This top one is how we met,” Shiro began, “and how we got to know each other. It’s turbulent at the outset but then comes closer and closer together until stable, until we become important to each other.

“The second one in the middle is about falling in love with you. Through hardship and pain and uncertainty, you become a constant to me and I _know_ . But I get to fall in love with you _twice_ and so...I used one bead here—” Shiro paused, tapping the first of the silver embellishments, “—and another here.” He touched the second one and then traced the queue down to a set of silver cuffs that had been wound side-by-side. “Then eventually coming together here, which starts the love story in earnest.

“The third braid is what I promised you today. And for all the rest of our days. To support you, to protect you, to cherish you.” Shiro stroked the final queue at Keith’s temple at different points, changed patterns and designs which declared his love. “To love you until we’re dust, until all of it is dust.” In the heady silence that followed his explanation, Shiro wrapped his arms around Keith’s waist and held him close. He could feel him shaking.

Before he could offer some comfort, however, Keith turned in his embrace and buried his face in Shiro’s shoulder, his own arms twining around Shiro’s ribs. “I’m going to cry again,” he murmured, the words trembling and watery.

Shiro tightened his grip on his husband. “I won’t tell anyone,” he reassured. Keith laughed and clung a bit tighter.

*****

After what felt like an eternity, Lance burst through the double doors. “It’s a girl!” he declared, arms wide as he rushed toward them. “A healthy baby girl!” The assembled paladins started talking all at once, ecstatic and relieved after such an extended silence. They threw their arms around Lance as the new father laughed so hard tears streamed down his face. “You guys don’t understand. You guys—!” He paused to laugh again, scrubbing at his eyes as he tried to collect himself. “The doc handed her over to Allura, all bundled up, and the _first thing_ Allura said was, ‘Oh thank the stars she has my ears!’” This revelation only kicked off more laughter as memory surged, the ruckus earning them amused and curious glances from around the waiting room.

Amidst the congratulations, Lance turned to Shiro and Keith. “She wants to see you,” he said. “Both of you. The hospital staff is only gonna let so many of us in at a time. But she was pretty adamant. Room B36. Turn left when you get through the doors.”

Keith glanced at his husband and found Shiro beaming. He expelled a breathy laugh at the sight and took his hand, leading him away from the group and through the double doors through which Lance had come only moments before. As instructed, they hooked a left turn and walked down the hallway. Spotting Coran standing guard at the door, Keith raised a hand in greeting. 

Shiro took the Altean’s hand. “Have you seen her?” he asked.

Tearful and sniffling, Coran answered, “She’s as beautiful as a Kreislaran preezlax [2] and twice as small.” 

Confused, Keith cast a wayward glance at Shiro and found much the same sentiment painting his face. They said nothing but nodded, feigning understanding, and clapped Coran on the shoulder as they stepped into the dim room. 

Allura lay in bed, propped up with pillows at her back, while she cradled a small bundle in her arms which she rocked slowly, gently. For a breathless moment, no one moved. Keith found himself transfixed watching her even while Allura herself seemed transfixed by the child in her arms. 

The spell was only broken when Allura looked up and spotted them at the door. Her face brightened at the sight of them and she gave them a wide, ecstatic grin. “Oh good!” she whispered, seemingly breathless. “Come here! Come meet her!”

Keith joined Allura at her side near the head of the bed while Shiro took a seat at the edge of the mattress near her knees. This close, Keith saw how tired and relieved Allura looked...and so happy too. Her smile was infectious and he felt his own grin widen. He looked down then at the bundle to find the baby fast asleep. Her flushed, pudgy cheeks bore the half moon Altean marks and her pointed ears were partially obscured by the pink cap the hospital staff had used to cover her small head. _Adorable,_ Keith thought. “What’s her name?”

“There were so many...we had trouble picking. But today we decided on ‘Astrid.’” Allura raised her eyes to meet Keith’s before turning her attention on Shiro. “It seemed fitting.”

“It’s a good name,” Shiro agreed, sporting a boyish grin. 

“You’ll never forget her birthday.” They shared muted laughter between them but then Allura asked, “Do you want to hold her?”

Keith watched some unnamed emotion sweep over Shiro’s face. Or perhaps it was several of them all at once. In the end, Shiro nodded and shifted close enough on the bed for Allura to pass him the bundle. His eyes were bright as he turned his gaze to the baby cradled against his body and stared in wonder as if he held the universe in his arms. 

Allura sighed then, fatigue clearly catching up with her as she leaned heavily into Keith. He swept his arm around her shoulders and dropped a kiss to the crown of her head, the two of them content to simply watch the ATLAS captain and newest addition for a time. Eventually, Allura broke the silence. “She may have my ears, but she looks so much like him,” she mused. “Time will tell how _much_ she is like him.”

Keith couldn’t help but smirk. “You already predicting your daughter’s going to be a terror?”

“She’s _our_ daughter after all,” Allura shot back and Keith could hear the amusement in her voice. “ _Of course_ she’s going to be a terror.”

“She’s beautiful,” Shiro countered, and they fell silent again as they watched their leader fawn over the first of the next generation. “Hi little one. Welcome to the family.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] As a reminder, molvar and rokavii are Krolia’s chosen words for “son” for Keith and Shiro respectively. You can read more about their meanings back in [Chapter 5: Volley Two](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19425103/chapters/52672285).
> 
> [2] Kudos all to Mayu (@Original_Cin_XV on Twitter) for this little HC!
> 
> [3] Do you know what a Kreislaran preezlax is? Neither does anyone else. Thanks go to the [90s Alien](https://www.springhole.net/writing_roleplaying_randomators/90saliennames.htm) and [Retro Alien](https://springhole.net/writing_roleplaying_randomators/retroaliennames.htm) name generators for this one.


End file.
